Two Weeks
by Sakiku
Summary: Tortured by the Dark Lord, escaped only to be enslaved by a vampire, and terrified out of his wits - What is Draco's perspective on the two weeks he spends in Rahkesh's home? Spin-off to Changes in a Time of War by Miranda Flairgold
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling, and the rest to Miranda Flairgold. I'm merely borrowing their characters and universe to play a bit.

**Warnings: **None. A bit of PG-13-Trauma, perhaps one or two bad words, but otherwise nothing.

**Summary: **Tortured by the Dark Lord, escaped only to be enslaved by a vampire, and terrified out of his wits - What is Draco's perspective on the two weeks he spends in Rahkesh's home?

**A/N: **You should read A Second Chance at Life and at least the beginning chapters of Changes in a Time of War (both by Miranda Flairgold) first to make sense of what this story is talking about. If you can't find them or don't already know them, I have posted the links on my profile. And, yes, I have asked for her permission. Otherwise – enjoy!

* * *

**Two Weeks**

**Prologue**

„Come here, Draco."

Without protest, he got up from his seat on the floor and went to stand in front of her, scared to his bones. It seemed that lately, he hadn't been anything but terrified, caught in a never-ending nightmare of vampiric captivity. He never once raised his eyes, having been taught by other slaves that it would be considered a challenge to look directly into a vampire's eyes. And he didn't want any attention, he just wanted to be left alone, get away and out of this hellish life.

A cold, inhumanly strong hand settled on his shoulder, making him suppress a flinch at the thought of what was coming next. All slaves were regularly fed on, and although he had to admit that her bite had never hurt, he was still scared to death that she could kill him with one thoughtless move. He couldn't even defend himself, having lost his wand somewhere during his captivity with the Dark Lord's minions. Gritting his teeth lest they chattered from tremors of terror, he waited for her next move, inwardly cringing away as far as possible.

But the expected bite never came; instead, she raised his chin with two fingers. Involuntarily, his gaze went to her eyes that were frowning at him, and he immediately dropped them as far down to the floor as he could. During Defense against the Dark Arts classes at Hogwarts, they had covered vampires, and though those lessons seemed infinitely far away now he thought he could remember a book saying that vampires could enslave mortals with a single gaze. Those vampires with the Dark Lord hadn't been able to do it, but she felt so much older and stronger than them; he didn't want to risk her manipulating his thoughts like she had done with so many of her other slaves before. Why else would they be happy to be in her service?

Admittedly, she had rescued him from the Dark Lord's tortures. But then, she had turned around and enslaved him, merely exchanging one kind of hell for another.

"I am not going to feed from you tonight, Draco. I would rather like to know how you have been settling in. I have been receiving reports that you do not sleep well, and I know that you haven't been this meek in the past. Has anyone been hurting you under my care?"

Jerkily, he shook his head, not trusting his voice to stay steady. No, not even being fed on hurt; he hadn't known that the experience could be quite so pleasurable. The Dark Lord's vampires' bites had hurt so much, sending him screaming and struggling when they grabbed him with their hands of steel. But in his eyes, the lack of pain turned the horror into a much more subtle version. Everybody around him had been nice and understanding, trying to make him as comfortable as possible, and they didn't even see how far they had fallen under the vampire's spell. He wondered when she would start showing her real face. At least the Dark Lord had never hidden his intention to torture him to death.

"Then why are you still so afraid? As long as you follow my directions, I will never treat you badly or let any harm come to you. The same cannot be said of other vampires."

_But you are a vampire, too,_ he wanted to scream, starting to tremble visibly. Her hand on his shoulder tightened almost to the point of pain when he didn't say anything, making him think furiously on what he could tell her. He grew more and more frantic when he couldn't find anything that wouldn't infuriate her, but the longer he stayed silent, the angrier she would become, too. He was nearing a full-blown panic, opening and closing his mouth without sound, shrinking away from her as far as her touch allowed.

She sighed, easing her grip on his shoulder without releasing him.

"You don't have to answer if it causes you that much distress. But keep in mind that even my patience with unreasonable fears has a limit. I have seen what you have gone through at the hands of vampires, and yes, it is understandable that you are traumatized. But there comes a point where you will have to decide how to proceed with your life. Do you want to keep living in fear? Because then, it would be a mercy if I killed you."

His panic, which had eased with her first words, was making a serious comeback, freezing him in terror, eyes dancing nervously back and forth as he was looking for words. She was going to kill him?

"Relax, I never said anything about killing you right now."

He felt something dark wash over him, plunging him into an unnatural calmness. She could not only read his thoughts but also influence his mind, he numbly decided. Then had she heard his earlier thoughts, too? But somehow, nothing seemed important anymore at the moment, being shrouded behind hazy clouds. Everything had lost meaning, even his fears.

Finally following the soft pressure of her fingers under his chin, he raised his eyes to hers. She stared at him intently without saying anything for a while, and not even her unnatural stillness combined with her soul-deep scrutiny of him could make him panic. After an indeterminable amount of time, she released him and stepped away from him, nodding to herself.

"I might know somebody who can set you back on the right track. He certainly is interesting for a mortal. And he owes me quite a large favor."

It took some time to penetrate his drugged mind that she was not really talking to him, more thinking out loud. With reality separated from him through layers of cotton, he kept still, waiting in a timeless void for further instructions.

At long last, she dismissed him with the order to return to her quarters immediately after breakfast tomorrow, dressed for a trip outside her mansion. Bowing quietly, he left the room, still wrapped in a rapidly clearing haze of calmness. Back in his quarters, when the last of her compulsion vanished, he belatedly broke out in cold sweat, reliving the horror of being completely ensnared by her mind. It took more than an hour for his tremors to stop, and then only because he had fallen asleep. His nightmares rose with a vengeance.

**

* * *

A/N:**

This story is already mostly complete, so the wait between chapters won't be too long. But if you find some serious plot-holes, logical mistakes, or other things like that, please don't hesitate to tell me – I'm posting the chapters with a time-delay because of this, so that I can fix those things. And once again many kudos to Miranda Flairgold for allowing me to play in her awesome sandbox (erh, universe, reality, whatever…)

Sakiku


	2. Day 0

**Day 0**

The next morning, he felt even more exhausted than the days before, having slept less than three hours a night for over two weeks now. Before that – no, he was not going there. He couldn't remember sleeping back then, only unconsciousness. How long could a wizard survive without sleep? He wasn't sure, but he hadn't felt really awake for a very, very long time. Everything was one huge, hazy nightmare which he desperately was trying to survive. Being constantly afraid drained his strength even faster, and he was nearing a point where he was well and ready to give up completely, not caring anymore about what happened to him.

Wiping the last specks of nonexistent dust from the shelves of the humongous library, he was so tired that he didn't even complain mentally about cleaning duty being beneath his standing as a Malfoy. Him not being a Malfoy anymore was half the reason – his father had disinherited him as soon as Draco had fallen into… disgrace.

Almost zombie-like, he walked into the kitchens to get his breakfast. Since he wasn't on the special diet of regular… donors, he could choose whatever he wanted, trying not to think about those plates of pre-prepared vegetables, yoghurt, and fatless meat. He shuddered just at the impression of being fed like cattle.

Despite not being hungry, he forced himself to eat a reasonable amount of oatmeal, lest he get another summon to her. Last time, she had not been very pleased with his refusal of food.

Afterwards, he quickly returned to his room to change into more suitable attire, mentally steeling himself for the coming day. He had been given three outfits to use inside the mansion, sleepwear, and two surprisingly elegant outfits to wear outside. She had told him that, since he was her slave, he represented her and that a badly dressed slave threw a negative light on her.

Other slaves passed him on his way to her quarters, never paying him more attention than a brief glance. In their free time in their rooms, they could talk, but when on duty for her, they were expected to communicate only what was necessary. Swallowing heavily, he stopped in front of the heavy blackwood door that was the entrance to her quarters, trying to find the courage to knock. But before he could raise his fist, the door swung open on its own accord, and he chastised himself for not expecting that she had wards that would alert her to any presence outside her rooms.

Carefully, he stepped inside.

He had seen her main rooms before, but every time he was overwhelmed again by the sheer amount of dragon paraphernalia littering every free surface. There were pictures of dragons on the walls, teeth, claws and scales in bowls on every surface, reddish threads he thought were dragon heart-strings suspended in mid-air in intricate weaves, a whole dragon skeleton hanging from the high ceiling, and of course, a whole library of shelves filled solely with books about dragons. He had never been in the rooms that led off this one, but he supposed they didn't look very much different. She was verifiably obsessed with those reptiles.

"Here."

He hadn't heard her leave those chambers hidden behind a glittering pearl curtain, and thus was quite startled by her sudden appearance next to him. She was holding a vial with a steaming, venomously green potion, apparently expecting him to drink it. Was she going to poison him? Heart pounding in his throat, he inched away, not knowing of any benevolent potions with that kind of color.

She frowned, her petite form inordinately menacing without her actually doing anything. "Do I have to force you?"

All his blood was leaving his face when more and more memories of countless foul-tasting brews being poured down his throat rose to the fore of his mind. A heavy sweat sprung onto his face when he compulsively shook his head, but he made no move to take the vial from her, staring at it like hypnotized. He could feel a very low growl filling the room, grating deeply into his bones. It was as if the vibrations thrust into the core of his being, snapping his free will like a twig.

"Drink."

The single command was enough to send his mind hurling with pain, his body acting without his consent, downing the potion in one go. It burned going down into his stomach, raising tears of pain in his eyes, but it hardly was the worst pain he had ever gone through. When the burn spread through his body though, he had to grit his teeth to not howl out loud, and when it invaded his brain, he barely felt her catch him as his legs gave out from under him.

When he could think again, he found himself lying on a soft leather couch in the center of the room. There hadn't been one there before, probably conjured. Still shaking from the aftermath of agony, he nonetheless tried to sit up to see where she was. What had she given him? He didn't feel any different, but that didn't have to mean anything. He knew of enough slow-acting poisons where the person wouldn't feel a thing until the last minutes to be scared out of his wits. And how had she made him drink it? Was that the vampiric magic so many dark creature books had warned him against?

Barely suppressing a shudder, he nearly jumped out of his skin when he found her seated in a conjured armchair, studying him intently. He shrunk back into the couch under her focused gaze, not able to suppress memories of his capture. Finally, she nodded.

"Good. Your mind has been blocked against telepathy. And before you work yourself into a frenzy, I have not poisoned you. There are going to be some vampires there today, and I do not care for anyone picking my secrets out of your mind – or blood."

With alarm he noted that she had practically implied that other vampires would feed on him, sending him nearly into hysterics again. Since his capture, only she had taken his blood. And with her, he was at least reasonably sure that he would come out alive and not hurt too badly. If only because she still desired him as unpaid labor. But other vampires…

He didn't even realize how he was wringing his hands until her icy cold command froze him.

"Stop it. I want you on your best behavior today, so do not disgrace me. As nice as I usually am, you won't like the consequences if you step out of line. Now come here."

It was as if a switch had been turned over in his brain as he scrambled to obey her command, not wanting to face her wrath. She wrapped an arm around him, like when she was going to feed on him, but then he felt disoriented for a brief second. When he regained his balance, he realized that they were outside a medium-sized cottage in the middle of nowhere.

Meadows with grazing beasts and occasional trees stretched into the distance until a dark forest swallowed the horizon, and several large greenhouses were grouped around the wood and brick building. It was not even a quarter as big as Malfoy mansion, and not as elaborately decorated. It looked more like a holiday cottage than a real home, but the interior probably had been enlarged. With its rustic walls and thatched roof, it didn't look anything like the lair of a vampire, not even close to projecting the majestic air of her estate. But – wasn't that a few thestrals grazing calmly between unicorns? Since when did they eat grass, and since when could he see…

Abruptly, he cut off his trail of thought. He didn't want to remember his failure with Dumbledore, which would only lead to his subsequent punishment. Instead, he took care to follow her the requisite two steps behind and to the left.

During his first few days under her care, she had made sure he knew all the house rules and how she expected him to conduct himself both in public and the privacy of her mansion. And she had made sure he knew what kind of punishment would await him if he broke those rules. Although she had only told him and not done anything, he'd gotten more fodder for his nightmares.

So he tried to obey her rules and commands to the t, throwing covert, anxious glances at her back to see whether he was doing anything wrong.

They entered the cottage without any problems; the door didn't appear to have been locked, and nobody greeted them. Was the cottage empty? She had said they were going to meet someone, but he hadn't seen her deactivate any wards, so there either were none or she was keyed into them. Or had she used her wandless abilities that were so far beyond his skill with a wand that he couldn't even imagine it? Had she telepathically contacted the owner?

Once inside, he could immediately feel an incomparably strong presence, nearly overwhelming him with its darkness. He paled dramatically, caught in indecision between following her towards the source of the presence and disobeying her commands.

She seemed to feel his hesitancy. But unlike at her mansion, she immediately looked at him sharply and growled. Once again, the vibrations set his bones trembling, rendering him completely helpless in the face of her anger. Heart threatening to jump out of his ribcage, he once again fell into step behind her, trying not to imagine the horrors awaiting him.

The further they wandered into the house, the thicker the presence became, sending cold sweat onto his brows. He was so afraid of it that he didn't perceive any details of the hallways and rooms they passed. He only had a feeling that the cottage probably had been enlarged since it hadn't looked that big from the outside.

Finally, they entered an artificially darkened living room where there already were three people and a … very strange, black-skinned creature with wings and red eyes, waiting for her to join them. A brief glance from the corner of his eye revealed more details. The winged creature was something of a mis-formed cross between a black-scaled dragon with the physiognomy of a large hunting cat, and a head of something that could have been a wolf once, if wolves had scales and neck-spines. Its eyes were red and glittered maliciously, its teeth were long and needle-sharp, and its talons didn't look much better.

Draco shuddered. He had never seen a creature like this before, and if he saw one in his next life, it would still be too soon.

The large animal took up the whole couch, with two tall, dark-haired men, one of them around his own age, one approaching his thirties, and one slightly shorter woman seated on chairs around it. A fourth chair was empty, probably for his master. Were all of them vampires? And what was that creature? Their pet? It certainly looked dangerous enough, and he certainly didn't want to enrage it.

All three of them exuded oppressing presences, but with all the power filling the room, he couldn't distinguish whom the strongest and darkest one belonged to. But all three of them definitely were very powerful. The only time he had felt a similar power was when the Dark Lord himself had shown his anger.

Suppressing his need to swallow thickly, he followed her into the room and knelt down at her feet as protocol demanded. There were no introductions made; they all seemed to know each other.

"Someone we should know?" The creature taking up the whole sofa growled curiously, pointing to him with its barbed tail. He barely refrained from flinching at the sight of the murderous weapon. It was sentient? Why had he never heard of a species like that before? He just hoped that it didn't like human flesh.

"My newest slave, had to replace old Linus. This is Draco Malfoy. I'm headed over to Hadrian's after this. Draco here was a Death Eater so Hadrian asked for any information he might have."

She – what? She just told them that he was a Death Eater?

"Malfoy, eh?" the younger black-haired man said, "I've heard that name. Farov's been going on about another of that family, his father probably."

Oh Merlin, what were they going to do with him? He could care less about his father after the man had enthusiastically taken part in torturing his own son, but he had gained a short glimpse of the vampire called Farov – and his slaves. All of them had been young, beautiful boys with dazed expressions on their faces, and at least one of them constantly clung to the vampire's side. They hadn't looked mistreated or malnourished exactly, but they hadn't looked all there, either. Draco really didn't want to know what happened at night behind closed doors.

"Ah, that explains a lot. When Farov found out I had this one he tried to buy him," his master said.

That was what they had been talking about? Draco had only seen Farov from afar while he was on one of his slave duties. He hadn't even known that the other vampire had expressed any interest in him! Draco thanked his lucky stars that she hadn't sold him; he didn't have many hopes of escaping unmolested – as a Malfoy he knew he was beautiful – but at least his master was a woman.

But her next words sent his heart to the bottom of his feet.

"I haven't actually said no yet. You see, this one has been a problem. That is why I'm here now. He is intelligent enough and much more than average for a mortal in power. It is the inner workings of his mind that are a problem. Draco, wait outside for me," she ordered abruptly, nodding towards the door.

Heart beating so loudly that he barely could hear his own thoughts, Draco rose and left, holding his legs straight with sheer willpower. Was she really considering selling him? The door closed magically behind him, and by the abrupt cessation of noise, there must have been silencing wards erected.

The hallway was almost as dark as the sitting room had been, with the sudden silence ringing in his ears. Anxiously wringing his hands, he paced back and forth, trying not to take note of the deep shadows the staircase stretched into.

Last night, she had said something about a mortal owing a favor to her, but which of them was mortal? Over the last few weeks, he had learned pretty well to distinguish living people from undead, but he hadn't dared look at them long enough to identify any characteristic attributes, like pale, almost glowing skin, or unnatural stillness. And what was the problem with the inner workings of his mind? Hadn't she said herself that it was natural for him to be afraid of vampires? And how was a mortal going to help?

Worrying himself almost into a frenzy, he stopped his pacing at the sole window in the hallway, hoping that the view would calm him. But the sight of grazing thestrals only made his hands clench harder around the windowsill, fighting to keep memories at bay.

When the door to the sitting room opened suddenly he flinched, turning around quickly to see her coming towards him with an unreadable expression on her face. Without a word, she caught his shoulder, and once again the disorienting feeling swept over him.

He had to bite the inside of his cheeks to not ask what had been decided. He was anxious to know his fate, but was even more scared of her punishing him for speaking out of turn.

This time, they stopped in front of a mansion that looked just like he imagined a vampire's lair to look like. It was at least twice as big as Malfoy mansion, stretching majestically across the grounds with four floors above ground and probably at least half the number beneath, heavy drapes obscuring the windows, and a well-tended garden in the front.

The heavy brass door at the entrance was opened by a servant, human he realized, who bowed to her. "Lord Hadrian is waiting for you in his study, Lady Mariah."

She just nodded regally and strode inside as if she owned the place. Draco had known she was old and powerful, but that she was to such a scale? Some books had mentioned that vampires had a very rigid hierarchy, and when being in another's territory, it was best to show oneself respectful unless one was a lot stronger. He didn't have any idea who or what the people in the cottage had been, but, after the book on vampire politics she had forced him to read (and quizzed him on afterwards), he recognized the name Lord Hadrian as the city master of London. A very powerful and influential vampire. And she was allowed to act in such a manner in Lord Hadrian's very own mansion.

Suppressing a shiver at the thought of what was going to come, he followed her through elaborately and tastefully decorated hallways to an anteroom, where they were being received by an elegantly dressed, aristocratic man who definitely was a vampire, judging by his extended canines. Though elegantly dressed in flowing red and white linen, the vampire's clothes looked like they had been imported from ancient Rome and changed only minimally to enhance the intimidation factor. The vampire bowed gracefully to his master, showing his respect.

"Mariah. What a beautiful specimen. I see you already have him well-trained?"

Draco definitely didn't like the look the vampire was shooting him, quickly lowering his gaze to the floor once again.

She laughed. "He didn't appreciate Farov's presence, so I doubt he would appreciate yours any better. He is damaged enough as it is, no need for you to add to it. You wanted to question him concerning his days as Death Eater?"

So this vampire was the city master himself. It took all his willpower not to start shivering at the implications of Hadrian's similarity to Farov. For once he was almost grateful for her presence, as much as it scared him at other times.

"Yes, indeed. We have several accounts of loyal Death Eaters spouting their pureblood nonsense unless given veritaserum or being fed on, but he has experienced both sides. I think he could have valuable information."

She shrugged her shoulders, the tiny beads of her thousands of plaits tinkling musically. "I have drunk his blood a few times, but I haven't found anything noteworthy. Of course, I haven't looked for it either. You can go ahead, this morning I have given him the standard blocker to conceal anything of importance concerning my estates."

Lord Hadrian smiled thinly. "I don't think I need to tell you that I'd bet quite a lot on the potion being anything but standard. But as long as it doesn't interfere with his memories from before, I can understand."

Without hesitation the vampire glided towards him, and he was frozen in fear while his thoughts were racing a mile a minute. The potion this morning had been to conceal his thoughts from Lord Hadrian? Why had his whole body hurt then instead of only his head? And how much could a vampire read from feeding on someone? Why was Hadrian trying to gather intelligence _against_ Death Eaters? He thought all vampires wanted to join the Dark Lord, despite Mariah's assurance to the contrary.

The cold hands clamping around his neck and shoulder sent icy panic into his gut, but before he could start struggling he felt the bite, and then he didn't _want_ to struggle anymore because he felt so relaxed. He didn't know how long it took, hanging almost limply in the iron grip. When the vampire finally stopped feeding, he felt vaguely faint. Stepping away, Hadrian licked his canines clean with a thoughtful look on his face that was beginning to swim in and out of focus. If Mariah hadn't reacted quickly enough, Draco would have fallen to the floor because he was weaker than he had thought. Through the swooshing sound in his ears, he could hear Hadrian saying something about "interesting, very interesting" and Mariah excusing them. Then, the disorienting sensation came again, and together with the blood loss, it was too much for him. He fainted.

________

When he woke up again, he immediately recognized his room at Mariah's estate with a mixture of relief and anxiousness flooding him. The duster he had dropped on the floor this morning was more than proof enough to identify the room as his, since all slave quarters looked the same except for their personal belongings. After capturing him, she had provided clothes for him without any comment, and he had been given things for personal hygiene, very much to his surprise. He would have liked his wand better because it had taken him several days to learn how to use the muggle razor without cutting himself, ensuing in quite a bit of ribbing from other servants.

A note was left next to a vial of potion on his nightstand, telling him that it was blood-replenisher and that he would do well to drink it. Since it looked and smelled like the blood-replenisher he knew, he didn't hesitate long and swallowed it in one gulp, hoping that it would cure his light-headedness. Drawing a face he acknowledged that, yes, it also had the obnoxious coppery-salty taste of blood-replenisher.

He had barely set down the empty vial when there was a knock on his door.

"Yes," he asked.

It was opened to reveal a slender woman of approximately forty, who was tasked with helping him adjust to his life here. She was very friendly, but not very out-spoken.

"Mistress wishes to see you in her chambers as soon as you feel well enough."

He almost flinched. Fainting in front of Lord Hadrian certainly meant he was going to be punished. "Thank you. I will leave here shortly."

Nodding, she closed the door behind her, and Draco half-seriously debated with himself whether he felt well enough or not. He was more than convinced that now she was finally going to kill him, probably not without punishing him first – otherwise he simply wouldn't have woken up again from his faint. The way she had looked after exiting the cottage, and him fainting in front of London's city master did not bode well. From the very beginning, she had impressed on him that he was to ensure her good reputation, behaving well in front of other vampires or else.

And this morning, he didn't think he had left a good impression.

He was afraid of death, but he didn't want to make her any madder than she probably already was, so he nervously smoothed down his robes. He missed his wand something terrible; he never could stand wrinkles left in his clothes by sleeping in them. And with his wand, he would be able to at least defend himself properly. But since she was a vampire, she could probably evade any spells he cast at her because she simply was too fast.

Vampires were perfect for preying on humans, completely ruthless, and the magical ones had centuries of experience in wielding magic. He'd have no chance.

He took a deep breath and dried his sweaty hands on his robes. Making his way to her quarters for the second time that day, he was going even more slowly than before, dreading what was to come. Once again, the door opened before he could knock, although he hadn't even tried to this time.

"Draco," she stated seriously. "Do you know why I have called you here?"

Jerkily, he shook his head, slowly clenching and unclenching his fists to relieve at least some of his anxiety. He didn't dare look at her. How was she going to kill him? He hoped it was a quick death, but…

She continued, and he could almost hear laughter in her voice. "No, I am not going to kill you. Yet. Rahkesh Asmodeus, the owner of the cottage, has agreed to take you in for a while. Tomorrow, we will leave after breakfast, so pack clothes for at least one week. But," she turned serious once again, "should I hear one word from Rahkesh that you haven't been behaving yourself, you have forfeited this chance. And mind you, there will not be many chances for you anymore. I do not need a slave who is so scared and broken that he cannot even follow simple orders. Do you understand?"

Eyes wide, he nodded almost compulsively, and when she dismissed him, he more or less fled her rooms to hide beneath his blanket. Only the thought of the punishment for not finishing his daily chores got him moving again. He didn't sleep well that night, either.

**

* * *

A/N:**

As you can already guess, the next chapter is going to be the actual meeting between Draco and Rahkesh. I've been trying to get Draco's angsting right, but I'm not quite sure I've set the mood correctly. Any ideas on how I could improve that would be welcome!

Sakiku


	3. Day 1

**Day 1**

The next morning came and went routinely, as much as he had established a routine at her mansion during the short time he had stayed there. He woke up screaming from a nightmare, as usual, then got up to do his chores as usual, too. His mind was still hazy from lack of sleep, mostly going through the motions of scrubbing the floor in one of the thousands of rooms in her mansion without really removing any of the non-existent dirt. That was as usual, too.

He didn't know why exactly he had to do this task, but he was quite certain it had nothing to do with cleanliness. Magic would do a much better job at that. Maybe trying to teach him humility. In the beginning, he had grit his teeth at being forced to shuffle across the floor on his knees, but now he only found it blissfully mind-numbing. It was repetitive, no concentration needed, not that he would have been able to focus properly. He was so _tired_ of everything.

Everything happened as usual, surprisingly calming his frazzled nerves a bit. That was, until he had to meet her after breakfast. Somebody had left a self-shrinking bag outside his door, which he quickly packed with his robes and personal items. Putting the bag into one of his pockets, he exhaled deeply to steel himself for the rest of the day.

This time, she was already waiting for him in the main reception room, holding another vial of that fizzing, green potion, a little bit less than half the amount of yesterday. "I seriously hope that we do not have to repeat yesterday's events."

The threat was calmly spoken, but it cut into Draco like a hot knife. There would be no mercy today if he hesitated. Biting his lip to keep his hand steady, he reached for the vial and, with a brief glance at her, downed it without thinking. The burning pain came and went, and once again, his knees had given out some time during the agony of the potion working.

When he finally could think again, he saw her nod briefly and place the empty vial on a chest of drawers.

"Good. Do you have your clothes?"

Draco nodded, flinching when she reached for his shoulder. Her grip was very tight, almost painful, and then the disorienting sensation came once again. Not apparition, not a port-key. Some other mode of transportation he didn't recognize, a lot less… disruptive than the others. Special vampiric abilities?

He could see the same cottage from yesterday appearing, the grass still wet from morning dew, and birds calling in the sky. He noticed that upon their arrival several unicorns that had come quite close to the cottage fled in panic. The other equines, which he identified as thestrals and even a sleipnir or two, actually seemed drawn to them.

Without hesitation, she released his shoulder and opened the front door. Draco hurried to follow her the appropriate distance. Inside, he noticed to his huge relief, the suffocatingly dark presence from yesterday was gone. But there was something else permeating the house that made him anxious and restless. It didn't seem to affect her though. She calmly stopped in the center of the hallway, waiting for something or someone.

A few seconds later, a confident young man exited one of the doors and greeted them, smiling and bowing slightly towards her but not offering his hand for a handshake. "Good morning, Mariah. How did your visit to Lord Hadrian go yesterday?"

She tensed briefly, baring her teeth, and the man immediately assumed a non-offensive posture. Did she find his question offensive? Having his gaze properly trained on the floor, Draco couldn't see much, but he could feel that there was a whole subtext communication of body-language between them.

Then she relaxed again, and the tension vanished as if it had never existed.

"Good morning, Rahkesh. No, Lord Hadrian didn't share his findings with me; if you are so curious, you should ask him yourself." The man nodded to acknowledge her reprimand and she turned towards Draco, putting a hand on his shoulder and forcing him to move up to the same level as her instead of staying several steps behind her. "And this is the slave that I was talking about yesterday. Draco, this is Rahkesh Asmodeus. You are going to stay with him for the next week. If you behave yourself well, you might even stay longer."

Draco didn't quite dare raise his eyes to the man, resting them somewhere between his shoulder and his chin. But his peripheral vision provided enough information on the man just introduced as Rahkesh Asmodeus.

Draco was quite certain that he had been there yesterday, the younger black-haired male in the armchair. And to Draco's great relief, he was definitely no vampire, not as pale and inhumanly still as her. Asmodeus was quite tall, moderately tanned, lithe with wiry muscles, and had a smoothness to his movements that seemed downright dangerous. His black trousers and shirt were well-made, but designed to allow for free movement with no robes covering him. And, from what Draco could see, Asmodeus was quite heavily armed. There were several knives openly strapped to various body parts, a wrist-holder for his wand, something that looked like throwing stars, and various potions vials strapped to his belt. He didn't know how many other weapons were hidden away.

But his eyes were the most eerie thing of all. They didn't look human at all, filled with black, gold and white specks. And his presence alone… In Hogwarts, Draco had sometimes been able to get a glimpse of Dumbledore's power, a vast feeling of ... power against his skin. Asmodeus here had at least the same intensity to him, without seeming to project it at all. The only reason he hadn't felt it yesterday was because it had been drowned out by the even stronger and darker one of what he assumed to be either a vampire or the creature on the sofa.

He barely suppressed a shiver. For a human, Asmodeus was thoroughly unnerving, especially the impersonal and thoughtful gaze he examined Draco with.

"Could you perhaps restrict him to the property," Asmodeus asked and turned his attention back to Mariah with no obvious fear in his body language. Was he really unafraid of her, or did he just not show it? "I'm not sure whether I can trust him not to run away, and I already have too much to do to add looking for him to my schedule."

She nodded once, and Draco got a sick feeling to his stomach. Why would they think he'd run away? His sluggishly churning thoughts came up with ample scenarios for which they would need to restrain him. What was Asmodeus planning to do with him?

Asmodeus continued smoothly, not giving a hint as to what he was thinking. "Thank you. Do you mind if I excuse myself for some time, I am in the middle of a potion that shouldn't be left unattended for too long. I'm sure the wards won't be a problem for you to key him in, and you probably already know that Daray's in the living room. Should you leave before I'm done – is there anything else I need to know?"

"This property is yours?"

"Yes."

"Are there any blood wards around it?"

Asmodeus looked thoughtful. "Not around the whole property, but a circle around the cottage and each of the greenhouses. Why?"

"Then I would think it best if I restricted him to those wards. Have you activated them before or after?"

Before or after what?

"I have renewed them afterwards. You are asking for my blood?" Asmodeus had a small smirk on his face. Draco swallowed heavily, not seeing how Asmodeus could be so cheerful about it. Was she going to feed from the man right in front of Draco?

To his surprise, Mariah almost looked – put out? When talking about blood?

"Five drops will be enough. One for each limb, and one for his forehead."

Still smiling slightly, Asmodeus suddenly had a knife in his hand, now looking somewhat curiously at her. Draco was not that curious; he suspected that it would be the same procedure she had used to key him into the wards around her estate, and it had hurt. Not the blood, but the magic that had followed. It had scoured across his flesh, leaving him sore and feeling almost dirty with the oppressing darkness of the magic.

Without flinching, Asmodeus pressed the knife into his right index finger, just deep enough to scratch the surface and get a little bit of blood flowing. After an asking look at Mariah, he stepped closer to Draco, making him cringe back instinctively. Asmodeus' frown quickly froze him in place, and he felt almost petrified watching the injured digit coming closer to him. The brief touch to his forehead didn't hurt; it was warm and left a cool feeling where the blood immediately started to congeal. Grabbing Draco's wrists, Asmodeus quickly dabbed his injured finger against their insides above the pulse-point, and then he knelt down in front of Draco to touch his ankles.

When Asmodeus got up, Draco could see that the injury had already healed, and the excess blood was cleaned away. How strong was Asmodeus to not even have used a wand for that?

"What now?" Asmodeus asked.

She smiled, her fangs bared. Draco shivered at the sight, but Asmodeus seemed unimpressed. "That's enough, thank you. The rest, I will do myself."

"Well then, I hope you will excuse me." With a small bow, the man left and her attention focused back on Draco.

Her eyes started to glow strangely, like they had on several occasions before, and strange, runic lines seemed to appear on her skin focused mainly around her eyes, her temples, the center of her forehead, and the back of her hands. Draco was torn between fascination and fright. Despite her being almost half a foot shorter than him, she was a much more imposing figure. The golden glow fairly radiated power around her, most of it targeted at him. Her hands moved in strange patterns, seemingly plucking invisible threads out of the air all around him, tying him with them.

With a sharply spoken word the golden runes on her skin lit up brightly, and Draco could feel the magic connecting painfully with something inside him. He grit his teeth, trying not to throw up from the feeling of dark strands wriggling deep into him. It didn't feel as vile as when she had tied him into the wards of her home, but was still repulsive enough to make him swallow heavily several times.

When the pain and nausea ebbed away, the dabs of blood Asmodeus had left on his skin glowed white-golden, igniting in a flash of blue-white heat. Before Draco actually realized the pain, the blood had burned itself up, leaving no more than slightly tender spots on his skin.

"Hm. Curious." She was looking strangely into the direction Asmodeus had vanished into, with a predatory look. "Tristan never said anything about…"

Trailing off, the golden glow under her skin finally abated, subsiding once again. Draco was too miserable to wonder what she was talking about. He was still shivering from both the aftereffects of what she had done to him and a bone-chilling coldness that never seemed to leave him lately. He carefully brushed his index finger across the small, red spot on the inside of his left wrist. With a shaky breath he tried not to think of Asmodeus' blood _igniting_ right on his _skin_, and that it had been all Asmodeus' doing. What was Mariah _doing_, leaving him all alone with Asmodeus?

"Draco."

His eyes snapped up to hers, the strong command making him flinch and barely reign in his panic.

"Same rules as in my mansion. Behave. Obey all commands. The further outside the wards you go, the more painful it will be for you. If you prove yourself trustworthy, you will get back your wand. Now wait here until either I or Rahkesh come and get you."

Almost terrified out of his wits, he nodded jerkily. "Y-yes, m-ma'm."

Without acknowledging him any further, she turned around and strode off into the direction of the sitting room, her thousands of tiny braids swinging lividly behind her.

He didn't know how long he just stood there staring after her, huddling his arms closer to his torso in a vain attempt to stop his shivering. Only slowly did he come out of his stupor where his overly tired thoughts went round and round in circles.

Yesterday, he hadn't been much in the state of mind to take in his surroundings except for the most obvious things, and today wasn't much better. But now that he was going to spend at least a week here, survival dictated that he got a grip on what kind of person Asmodeus was, and quickly. Alone from being near him and seeing his fearlessness when facing Mariah, Draco knew that it would not end well if he got on Asmodeus' wrong side.

He looked around. Very often, houses reflected their owners' character.

To his surprise, the hallway was almost completely bare, with no personal items anywhere. He could see a few lighter patches on the slightly off-white walls where there had probably hung some pictures, but they had been removed. An old, wooden chest of drawers was placed to one side, probably for shoes, and a simple coat-rack was mounted in easy reach of the door. The floor was covered with a hard carpet that might once have been white, but had turned more to a grayish-cream color in the center where most people placed their feet.

There probably weren't any house-elves around, because they would have had to iron their ears over such obvious signs of disrepair. Otherwise it was quite clean, and Draco wondered whether he would have to continue doing chores like for her. Both dusting and floor scrubbing seemed to be taken care of, but maybe the carpet…

To his left, there were several massive, wooden doors that were most ascetic in their design, but he didn't dare open them. She had said to wait for her in the hallway, and if she discovered he had gone anywhere else…

Shivering, he looked into the direction Asmodeus had vanished. There were stairs leading to at least one underground level, and to the upper floors. From what he could see, the upper floors seemed to be a bit lighter than the hallway he was currently standing in, but the light of the single window did nothing to penetrate into the darkness of the cellar.

Asmodeus though had gone straight through the door at the end of the hallway, the one next to the door leading to the sitting room. The man had said he was brewing potions? Draco just hoped he wasn't going to be the test subject for any new concoctions. Perhaps Asmodeus needed some help with brewing? But, on the other hand, since they didn't trust him with a wand, they would hardly let him near volatile ingredients. And even with the most basic herbs, you could create enormous damage, ranging from explosions over poisons and acids to noxious fumes.

He didn't know how long he had been waiting, when suddenly her voice sounded painfully in his head.

"Come to the sitting room. I am leaving now, so remember to behave. Rahkesh has full authority over you."

Almost screaming from the inhuman power invading his brain, Draco had to grab for the wall to steady himself. He had been quite certain that vampires had telepathic powers, but he had never experienced them for himself before. She had always sent servants to inform him of anything she needed, and he was glad for that. If she didn't do that ever again, it would still be too soon.

Shuddering, he staggered into the direction the call had come from, trying to compose himself from the shock.

The door Mariah had vanished through opened, but nobody came out. Swallowing thickly, Draco made his way towards it. He briefly rubbed his forehead to lighten the headache that her call had left, then dropped his hands to his sides. He didn't want to give them any leverage against him.

Carefully he peered into the room, taking in both Asmodeus sitting in the same chair as yesterday, and another man clad all in black leather despite the heat. He was sprawled across the couch the strange creature had inhabited yesterday.

With a sudden lurch he realized that the other man was not a man but a vampire, and cold sweat spread across his brow. Were there vampires everywhere? He should have known that he wouldn't be so lucky as to be left merely with a human.

Mariah was nowhere in sight; apparently she had already apparated out – or teleported, or whatever it was she did. So now, he was completely alone with Asmodeus and a vampire that was looking at him very suggestively.

"Well I can see why Farov's interested. Send him to one of the training facilities for sex slaves, do something about that hair, he could be a valuable one. Mariah didn't have any rules about drinking his blood and fucking him, did she?"

Even the vampire's voice sounded hungry, and Draco shivered compulsively. Now he knew why they didn't want him to escape. He didn't even have to ask what they were going to do to him, since the vampire had already voiced his intentions.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw Asmodeus rolling his eyes. "Is the word 'subtle' in the vampiric dictionary?"

Shrinking against the wall to make himself as unobtrusive as possible, Draco followed the ensuing conversation.

"Not concerning slaves. And she didn't say anything. How nice of her. You come from a line of purebloods?" The vampire bared his fangs at him in a predatory grin, making his heart pound so hard that he thought it would burst. He thought he had already resigned himself to what he knew they were going to do to him, but when faced with it directly…

"You remember Mariah said he had some sort of phobia of vampires. He seems unable to talk when too frightened, lay off a bit." Asmodeus sounded more amused than anything else. But the vampire backed off somewhat, stretching back on the couch. "And you're _not _molesting him."

The vampire looked at Asmodeus somewhat disbelievingly, then focused back on Draco. However, he didn't attack immediately. Which didn't make Draco feel any more secure, because he was quite certain that as soon as Asmodeus was out of sight, the vampire would do whatever he wanted.

"I'll have to assume Mariah didn't train you at all. You certainly need it. Answer the question; do you come from a long line of purebloods?" The vampire asked with a certain edge in his voice. Draco knew that edge; it was a sign of him getting impatient, and impatient vampires quickly got angry, and angry vampires…

He stuttered quickly, not wanting to incur his wrath. "Y-yes."

"Nice. You know I've never tried blood from an old British family." The vampire purred approvingly, and Draco felt the chill in his bones deepen at the change of voice. Dear Merlin, he hoped he was going to survive the next few weeks…

Asmodeus abruptly got up and rolled his eyes towards the vampire. "Oh, shut it. Before you give him a heart-attack from fright, I'll show him around. I'm sure you'll find something else to amuse yourself with in the meantime. Come on, Draco."

The man moved between him and the vampire, but Draco still saw the mouthed "Later" on the vampire's face, together with a very suggestive wink. He almost jumped when Asmodeus laid a hand on his shoulder and turned him around, leaving the room together with him.

Once the door was closed behind them, the man released his shoulder. "Don't worry about Daray, he won't harm you permanently. He's too afraid of Mariah for that."

From behind them, the vampire bellowed through the closed door. "I heard that, Rahkesh! I'm not afraid of her!"

Asmodeus called back. "Next time you see her, I'd like you to tell her that to her face!"

Except for a little bit of grumbling, everything was quiet behind them, and Asmodeus smirked. "You see, nothing to fear from him. Now come on, I'll show you your room."

Draco was seriously starting to doubt Asmodeus' sanity. Deliberately angering a vampire? The whole way upstairs, Draco expected to have the vampire come after them and attack. But, to his surprise, nothing happened.

Asmodeus stopped on the third floor, which apparently had once been an attic judging by the way the ceiling slanted high above them to the left and to the right. He opened the single door on the right side, almost in the center of the wall. It revealed a large, comfortably furnished room in red and orange hues that was impeccably clean and looked very inviting. Somehow, the colors reminded Draco neither of Gryffindor nor of blood, nor, Merlin forbid, the Chudley Cannons. They were more like the leaves in autumn, warm but not garish.

To the right hand of the door, several shelves were mounted on the walls, filled with books. On the left hand side, there was a wardrobe and a dresser, followed by another door. From where he was standing he could look out of the window straight ahead; the view was somewhat obstructed by several maple trees that were growing very close to the cottage. In front of the window, there was a simple desk with a standard-sized bed next to it. Otherwise, the room was completely bare except for several torch braces on the walls and an oil lamp on the desk.

Asmodeus cleared his throat, and Draco's attention snapped back to him. "As long as you stay here, this will be your room. The door to your left goes to your own bathroom; both Daray and I have our own on the second floor. The books on the shelves are all some you might be interested in, if you want to read. And since you don't have a wand, I have modified the spells on the torches and the lamp that you have to tap it twice to light them up, and three times to turn them off."

Asmodeus went ahead and demonstrated it with the torch closest to the door. "I have put up some wards that will – let's say, greatly discourage Daray from entering your room, but since he sometimes manages to pop even into my rooms unannounced, I'm not sure how much peace you'll get in here. I'll try to get him to leave you alone at night, but I can't promise anything. Otherwise, this room is yours.

"Since I don't have any house elves, any mess you make in here, you'll have to clean up again. The same goes for the kitchen downstairs, and any other rooms. Oh, and if you don't eat at least two full meals a day, or don't appear until noon, one of us is going to come upstairs and find out what's wrong. Any other questions?"

Draco looked around, trying to assimilate everything Asmodeus had said. "Am I… What are my chores?"

"None. You can treat this as somewhat of a vacation. All you have to do is care for yourself. Since Daray doesn't eat much solid food at the moment and I am quite busy, you will have to cook your meals mostly yourself. As long as you don't waste them, you can take any ingredients and food from the kitchen, and the stove will activate the same way as the torches in here.

"You can go explore the house and the grounds as far as the blood wards go, but the greenhouses are off-limits. Any doors inside that are locked are off-limits, too, except when one of us accompanies you. Anything else I have forgotten? Oh, yes. Here."

Asmodeus removed one of the stoppered vials from his belt, with the same viciously green potion inside that Mariah had given Draco mere hours before.

"This will make sure that nobody feeding from you, now or later, can learn anything about your time here. You will understand if I'm not too fond of other vampires learning any of my secrets. Take a mouthful every morning; this vial should be enough for the week. Should you stay longer, I will give you more of the potion. And mind you, I will know if you have taken your dose."

He anxiously looked at the vial, which Asmodeus had already unstoppered and was holding out in an unmistakable gesture. He reeled backwards unsteadily, warding off the bottle. "I… I have already had some today."

Asmodeus didn't seem surprised. "Since it probably was Mariah who gave it to you, that won't help a lot. This potion is brewed with the blood of the person who wants to suppress any information about them. So this one is to control your blood-memories of me and Daray. As long as it's only today, a second dose shouldn't be harmful."

Reluctantly, Draco took the vial and made the mistake of inhaling the fumes. Immediately he went into coughing spasms, completely unable to hold the vial in his hand steady. In between coughs, he could see Asmodeus move quickly to his side, but through the tears that had sprung up in his eyes he couldn't read his expression, so he instinctively shrunk backwards.

A strong hand grabbed his arm, and all of a sudden Draco could breathe again. His throat and lungs felt sore, probably irritated by the noxious fumes. But at least he could draw in air again without more than a slight hitch in his breath. Somehow, Asmodeus had managed to take the vial from him without his notice and steady the potion so that he didn't spill it all over the floor.

When Draco had calmed again, he became overly aware of the hand still resting on his arm. The hand removed itself without comment before he could stiffen at the contact, and Asmodeus was holding out the vial to him once again. He could see that none of the potion had spilled. How had Asmodeus managed that?

To his vast relief, the man didn't sound angry. "That was a little bit incautious of you. Hasn't Mariah warned you? Try drinking it down without inhaling the fumes this time."

Mariah hadn't warned him, but she hadn't given him any opportunity to contemplate the concoction, either. She had just forced it on him without any explanation.

More careful this time, he held his breath while swallowing a mouthful. The potion burned going down, and then the almost familiar feeling of the burn spreading, first to his blood and then to his brain, started. When he could think again he noticed that he had even managed to remain upright under his own power this time.

Asmodeus was watching him sharply, and when Draco slowly straightened again, he nodded once.

"Good. Should you need any other potions, just ask me or Daray, and depending on your request, we will give them to you. If you show yourself trustworthy, you might eventually be allowed in the potions lab under our supervision. And remember, one mouthful every morning.

"I will leave you to settle in now; if you want to eat with me, I will have lunch at one o'clock. Anything else?"

Mutely, Draco shook his head, still a little bit dizzy from the intense pain that had just left him. He barely heard Asmodeus closing the door behind him. Then he was alone. Perhaps his time here wasn't going to be that bad if he managed to avoid the vampire.

He started unpacking, a little bit surprised at how little of a portion of the wardrobe his clothes filled. At Malfoy Manor, he'd had at least two wardrobes of this size filled to the brim. At her mansion, he'd only had a dresser, and there his clothes had seemed to be considerably more.

Cutting off his thoughts, he concentrated on his work and got done quicker than he wanted to. Nervously, he sat down on the bed, not quite knowing what he was supposed to do now. He didn't want to go downstairs because the vampire was there, but he didn't want Asmodeus to come looking for him up here, either.

Since he didn't have a clock in his room and couldn't cast the _tempus_ spell without his wand, Draco went by his hunger. When he finally found himself too hungry to care about the vampire, he assembled all his courage and opened the door. To his surprise, he hadn't been locked in as he had half expected. With nobody in immediate sight, he carefully stepped into the hallway and made his way to the stairs. Ghosting down the steps, he reached the first floor, looking around anxiously.

The cottage was oppressingly quiet, no sound telling where Asmodeus or the vampire might be. But there was a strange kind of thick atmosphere which he had already felt earlier. Biting his lip, he hesitantly moved to one of the first doors to his left. Asmodeus had said that he was welcome to help himself to food from the kitchen, but he had forgotten to mention just where this kitchen was.

Slowly pressing down the handle, Draco pushed against the door – only to find it locked. Shrinking back, he immediately moved to the opposite door, not wanting to see whether he would be punished for trying a locked door. The next one opened without any problems, revealing a large room with a big, oval dining table, and chairs to seat at least eight people around it. It was decorated with two pictures hanging between the two windows, but since the light was blinding him, he couldn't quite see what the motifs were. On the left-hand wall, there was a door that was currently closed – probably leading to the kitchen. On the right-hand side, half the wall was taken up by a large opening that led into the sitting room. It was cleverly designed so that it gave a connected impression, but nonetheless separated the dining room enough from the sitting room that he could barely make out the back of one of the armchairs.

Stepping carefully into the dining room, he instinctively ducked when he saw something black dropping down onto him from above. It was perhaps as big as a hand towel, and it – shrieked?

"Get him, Satan!"

Draco immediately froze in fear. He hadn't seen the vampire coming from the sitting room before; he would never have entered the room otherwise. The black thing that had dropped down onto him fluttered madly towards the vampire, shrieking all the way.

It settled on the vampire's shoulder, and he petted it. "Yes, I know, you're hungry. Don't worry, we're going to sample him soon."

Both the vampire and the – thing were staring at him hungrily, focusing on him with a predatory gaze that sent tremors of terror down his back.

Suddenly, the vampire bared his fangs in a toothy smile. "Well, little mortal, shall I introduce you? This is my pet, Satan. In case you don't know, he's a vampire bat, and just as hungry for you as I am." The vampire licked his lips suggestively, with the bat mirroring him eerily. "What do you say, shall we?"

The bat chirped as if it had understood the vampire's words, both of them staring at him with horrifying intensity. Before Draco could gather enough wits about him to run away, the vampire had already pounced on him, slamming him against the doorframe with inhumanly strong arms. Draco's head thudded painfully against the wood and, completely terrified, he clawed at the vampire's arms to get away. In vain; the vampire only pressed closer so that Draco didn't have any leverage anymore and had to realize that the vampire was a few inches taller than him.

Leaning so close as to almost touch nose to nose, the vampire purred. "Let me try him first, Satan, I want to make sure that you only get the best. His thoroughly inbreed pureblood lineage might have gone bad."

Draco's breath caught in his throat, and he struggled even more frantically, hearing scared little sounds from somewhere. Since the vampire was using his whole body to pin Draco to the doorframe, he had one hand free to bend Draco's head to the side, making him lock gaze with the bat that was ferally baring its needle-sharp teeth at him. The scared little sounds increased in intensity, and Draco finally realized that it was him making the sounds. Then he felt sharp teeth breaking his skin, spreading a strange calmness throughout his body. He didn't even realize he had stopped struggling; the only thought he was capable of in his daze was that it didn't hurt, just like with her.

He could see the bat hopping impatiently from one foot onto the other, chirping hungrily, but somehow he didn't care. On an unspoken signal, the bat suddenly charged at him and bit him in the ear. Only then did he realize that the vampire had stopped feeding because the terror was gradually returning. The small claws of the bat felt sharp against his skin, and its fur tickled his ear. It smelled musty, with an acidic and sulfuric note. He had trouble trying not to gag from the odor.

The more Draco became aware again, the more he realized that there was an animal, a vampiric animal, feeding from him, with the vampire still holding him against the wall, much too close for comfort. Frantically he was looking for a way out, but the cold hands around his neck and upper body held him immobilized.

When the vampire released him, he was so close to hyperventilating that he saw colorful spots in his vision, and his legs were so weak that he crumbled to the floor. Scuttling backwards away from the vampire, he was relieved to see the bat perching once again on its master's shoulder, squeaking at him almost mockingly.

The vampire nodded. "That's right, Satan. If the mortal's already that afraid of your teeth, I wonder what he's going to say to Sygra's." He turned back to Draco, continuing almost conversationally. "Oh, mortal, if I were you, I would stop moving just about now. Sygra's right behind you, and I don't see Rahkesh anywhere. He's the only one who can really keep her in check, you know?"

Immediately, Draco froze in horror, not daring to move a muscle. The vampire leaning against the doorframe didn't move either, but neither did he seem afraid, more amused.

At first, Draco didn't hear or see anything, but then he heard a slithering sound coming closer. Cold sweat broke out all over his skin, and his heartbeat that was already accelerated from blood loss tripled in speed. Something cold was touching his fingers, and something hissed…

Excruciatingly slowly, he turned his head as to not startle the animal, looking downwards to find out what it actually was. The four feet long, black and silver snake staring back at him sent the rest of his blood down to his feet, and he had to fight to stay conscious. Everybody thought that all Slytherins loved snakes. Everybody wasn't really wrong; Slytherins generally knew a lot more about snakes than the general populace. But most of that knowledge translated into recognizing the danger he was in. Draco knew just how deadly such animals could be, especially when they were of a species he had never seen before, didn't know him, and were much too close for comfort. One wrong move on his part, and he could anger it into biting.

The snake, poisonous from its looks, flickered its tongue at him, hissing all the while. It seemed to inspect his terrified figure, and he felt decidedly inadequate. He didn't dare move, just staring at black eyes in an equally black head.

Suddenly, a pair of old, worn leather boots appeared in his vision, and a tanned hand reached down to pick up the snake.

"Aw, spoil all my fun," the vampire whined, still leaning against the doorframe to the dining room.

That meant… Draco looked up to see Asmodeus curling the poisonous serpent around his neck, petting its head. "I see that Daray has introduced you to our pets?" The bat chattered and the snake hissed. "Don't worry. Both of them bite only when ordered, but I'd be careful when sitting down on furniture. Sygra likes chairs that are still warm from use, and Satan has decided that the couch is his. They don't like being squashed into upholstery."

Asmodeus frowned at the snickering vampire. "And you, I have warned you. I doubt that he's sitting on the floor merely because of fright; he's far too pale. If you have to feed on him, at least make sure he's still capable of getting around on his own, or give him some blood replenisher. Now, if you will excuse me, I have work to do."

Not taking heed of the still snickering vampire, Asmodeus turned around and vanished behind the door that had been locked earlier just as soundlessly as he had appeared – together with his snake, this time. Draco stared after them, trying to comprehend the fact that Asmodeus had just chastised the vampire for feeding on him, and then left them alone the next moment.

The vampire's mocking laughter interrupted his thoughts, his head snapping back to the current threat. "Well, now that you've seen her, I'm quite sure you prefer Satan's bite to Sygra's, don't you?"

Draco nodded jerkily, wondering what other kinds of pets were kept in this madhouse.

"Good," the vampire continued, "then you won't mind being our snack for the next week. Now, come on, judging by how low your blood sugar is you must be hungry, and it won't do for you to keep eating the stuff you've been eating so far, that can't be healthy."

Draco felt something poke his back and he jumped up in fright, trying to find out who or what was behind him this time. Nothing was there, but the vampire chuckled amusedly. "Had to get you moving somehow, didn't I? Now, see, about your new diet…"

The 'new diet' turned out to be almost exactly the same food Mariah's slaves were forced to eat when they were regularly fed on: lots of vegetables and salads, wholemeal bread, fruit, dairy products, and nearly fatless meat.

Under the vampire's watchful gaze, he was forced to prepare himself a meal according to his new instructions, and then eat it. Draco almost threw up, both from the taste and the vampire's constant attention.

When he was done, the vampire got up and patted him on the head. "Very good. You can be taught after all. Now keep to that diet. I'm already looking forward to my next meal. Oh, and here." The vampire tossed him a stoppered potions vial which Draco almost dropped in his surprise. "Blood replenisher. You will need it."

Draco fled back to his room, haunted by the vampire's cackling that somehow followed him to the third floor. Only when he had shut the door behind him did he dare breathe again. How was he going to survive in this house, with a snake crawling everywhere, a madman joking with vampires, and a vampire and his bat feeding on his blood?

Only the threat of someone coming up and start looking for him if he stayed away too long got him moving again. Eventually.

**

* * *

A/N:** Draco's first impressions of Rahkesh and his mad little world. It was very enjoyable writing it…


	4. Day 3

**Day 3**

He woke up from – something. Not a nightmare like yesterday morning and the day before yesterday and the day before and… well, he couldn't actually remember the last time he had slept without dreams. And being unconscious for one reason or another didn't count in his book.

He listened, but everything was quiet. The sun hadn't risen yet and even false dawn was still a few hours away. His room was dark, dark enough that he couldn't quite make out his hand in front of his eyes.

Why had he woken up? He was tired enough to sleep the sleep of the dead unless his nightmares or other external forces interrupted him. And his bed was comfortable and his room neither too hot nor too cold.

An involuntary shudder raced down his back, from something he couldn't feel. During the last four months, he had learned not to ignore such feelings because they usually meant that either a vampire was quite close, or that huge quantities of magic were being released. There had been one time when the Dark Lord had done some kind of ritual somewhere in the mansion Draco was… held at, and Draco had been feeling those strange shivers of magic for several hours. They had felt vile and disgusting, tinged with something he definitely didn't want to touch.

This tingling now was cleaner but more ferocious, filled with anticipation and restlessness, and some violence. During the last two days, Draco had become somewhat familiar with the feeling when being in either Asmodeus' or the vampire's presence. But that he was feeling it now meant that either one of them was very close to him, or that they were doing magic in large quantities.

Since neither Asmodeus nor the vampire stuck to regular schedules, those incidences could occur day and night; sometimes he had to wonder if Asmodeus slept at all. There certainly were enough locked rooms in the cottage he could hide inside without Draco being the wiser. So far, he hadn't seen very much of his human host during the two days he had been staying here, instead all the more of the vampire and his bat. The snake thankfully had stayed absent most of the time.

Draco had taken care to make himself as unobtrusive as possible, not wanting to draw even more of the vampire's attention. As it was, the vampire was feeding from him once or twice a day, sometimes inviting the bat, too. He didn't know what was worse, the vampire or his pet. The vampire because of the glee he got from scaring Draco, or the bat because wherever it was, its master wasn't far. If he hadn't seen the two together so often, he would have thought the vampire actually was a bat animagus.

The only time he felt almost comfortable in the vampire's presence was during their daily chess matches. The first day, Draco had left his room just in time for dinner, which had been as distasteful as his earlier lunch. Afterwards, the vampire had commanded him into the sitting room, and had demanded that Draco entertain him. Draco had been completely frozen in panic, not knowing what to do at all.

Thankfully, Asmodeus had just come out of his laboratory for some food and had suggested a game of chess. Asmodeus had stayed only long enough to conjure a chess set for the two of them, and then vanished once again. The vampire had smirked and moved the first pawn, taking no heed that white was supposed to start the game, not black. With the comment fresh in his ears that it better be a good game unless he wanted to provide other forms of entertainment, Draco had taken up the other side of the board.

To put it shortly, it had been war. After four hours of fighting with as much concentration as he could muster through his tired, sleep-deprived thoughts, Draco had had to surrender his king. The vampire had grinned evilly, but to Draco's surprise hadn't done anything else. Apparently, Draco had to have done something right because yesterday evening, the vampire had demanded another chess match with the comment that Asmodeus was crap at that game.

Draco supposed that had been a compliment.

The match had been even longer than the last one, and had taken until one in the morning. Draco had been completely exhausted. So why was he awake if the sun hadn't risen yet? He couldn't have slept more than a few hours, and for a change, he hadn't been having a nightmare.

Shuddering again, he suddenly realized that his room had lit up briefly. It was over so quickly that he wasn't sure if he had only imagined it. But then, more bursts of light came. Spell fire?

Alarmed, he got up and went to the window to see what was happening outside. Those flickers of light occurred quite randomly in various colors and intensities, from somewhere on the other side of the cottage. Sometimes, he thought he could hear howls or growls, but he wasn't sure.

Biting his lip, he tried to decide whether to go look for the origin of the lights. It sounded like a duel, or even a battle, and he didn't like not knowing what was going on. On the other hand, without a wand, he would be in mortal danger, not even able to defend himself. Finally, he struck a compromise with himself: he would go to the library that was opposite his room, and look out of the window there.

When exploring the cottage yesterday, the only floor with completely unlocked doors was the third one, the top one, because the only rooms there were his room and the library. On the second floor and in the basement, all doors had been locked, but on the first floor, only one had been – the potions laboratory, if he had guessed correctly. The other four led to the kitchen, the dining room, a small bathroom, and the sitting room respectively. He wondered what was behind all those locked doors, but he wasn't suicidal enough to try and find out.

Like a wraith, he slowly opened his door, taking care not to make a sound. In the hallway, everything was pitch-black and quiet, no sign of anything wrong or out of order. A few careful steps with his hand resting on the wall to guide his way, brought him to the door of the library, the only other door on this floor. It opened without sound, too, and everything was as dark as his room.

No, not quite. The flashes of light were more pronounced, and the growls and thumps were louder.

Holding his breath, he tiptoed to the window, glancing carefully outside. What he saw made his breath freeze in his throat. Since it was completely dark outside, he only got glimpses of the two figures through the occasional spell-light, but he still recognized the strange animal that had sat on the couch during his first visit. Its black body melted completely into the night, only its glowing red eyes visible. It was attacking a humanoid figure, and he couldn't quite see who it was. He thought it was Asmodeus, but he wasn't quite sure. The dark hair and tall frame could have been the vampire's, too.

The two were fighting viciously, both of them using physical as well as magical attacks. The air was shivering from the spells tearing through it, either being evaded or dissipating against shields. Somehow, the creature's skin was quite magic resistant because, more than once, it batted spells out of the air with its wings. Draco wondered how they could see anything with the constant flashes blinding any nightvision they could have had, but that didn't seem to irritate them at all.

Suddenly, the creature exhaled a thick stream of fire, which the humanoid figure answered with a fire spell of its own, creating a wall of flames between them that was slowly setting the grass on fire. In the continued light, he recognized Asmodeus who was covered in grime and blood, with several scratches on his arms and legs bleeding sluggishly. In one hand, he held his wand, in the other one a dagger that was covered in strangely black blood. On the opposite side of the firewall the creature stood partially erect on its hind legs, both front claws holding thick knives, its wings spread for balance. Its gleaming black scales, too, were covered in dirt and grime. Neither man nor beast showed any signs of giving up.

Gradually, Draco realized that although they were keeping up their fire spells, they kept casting other nearly invisible spells at the same time, trying to get any advantage. _Wandless magic_, he breathed.

Suddenly, Asmodeus charged straight at the steadily growing wall of fire, canceling his own spell at the last second. Not having anything to fight against anymore, the creature's spell burned through the night air a few inches above Asmodeus' shoulder, who had thrown himself to the ground in a roll. Still blinded from the bright light of fire, Draco didn't see their next exchange, but he could hear clangs of metal against metal. Just when he had managed to blink away the spots in front of his eyes, a sudden burst of lightening ruined his nightvision once again. It thundered into the creature, which howled and jumped into the air. Asmodeus followed up with two more bolts of lightening, which the creature somehow managed to evade. It spit another glob of fire, and Asmodeus jumped to the side. The burning patches of grass were growing in number, enough to cast an eerie light on the fight.

Even before Asmodeus had both feet on the ground, the creature was already upon him, and once again, they were fighting in close quarters. Asmodeus was so quick that he seemed to dance around the creature, which had the advantage of reach and two additional limbs to fight with. And the creature knew how to use them. Buffeting Asmodeus around with the wind cast by its wings, the creature managed to keep the human unbalanced, always on the defensive. But Asmodeus seemed used to that mode of fighting, interspersing physical attacks with magical ones that, with such closeness between the two parties, were almost impossible to evade. Somehow, the creature managed though.

Suddenly, Asmodeus charged to the side of the creature, ducked under its forelegs and wings, grabbed onto the creature's neck spines, and somehow managed to vault himself onto the creature's back. Apparently having daggers slammed into scaly wings hurt the creature because it let lose a blood-curling roar, doing something Draco couldn't quite see. The result was Asmodeus jumping off as quickly as he had got on, flinging a few spells and metallic things at the creature in mid-flight. Landing on a shoulder, Asmodeus twisted his body and rolled away, on his feet again before Draco could blink.

Only then could Draco see that his right forearm was hanging at an unnatural angle, but apparently, Asmodeus didn't even realize the pain. He seemed to have cast a partial petrifying spell on it, because the bones and skin didn't move at all when he lifted the arm. The creature bared its fangs, and suddenly another wave of fire washed over the grass. Asmodeus didn't even hesitate but charged right through it, protected by either a shielding or freezing charm, Draco didn't know.

Using only his left arm, Asmodeus flung several knives at the creature, which batted them out of the air almost negligently. Apparently though, the blades only had been a distraction that Asmodeus used to get close to the creature, shooting concentrated lightening across its scales. It roared and swiped at Asmodeus, who for once didn't manage to get away fast enough. A wing slammed into his already broken forearm, finally making him scream in pain.

The creature whirled around, and although Asmodeus was already backing out of reach, it homed in on the sound. With inhuman strength, the creature slammed its fist into Asmodeus' midriff, somehow managing to circumvent all of Asmodeus' defenses. This resulted in Asmodeus doubling over, almost retching onto the grass, and the creature took advantage of the distraction. It brutally slammed itself into the man, grabbing his broken arm to disrupt conscious thought, and let gravity topple them over. Still in freefall, the creature wrapped itself around Asmodeus, immobilizing him with its body, clamping its maw around his throat and –

froze.

For several moments, neither of them moved, and Draco became aware that he was gripping the windowsill painfully hard. The flickering fire played over their bodies, and slowly the creature raised its head again. Draco wasn't quite sure, but he didn't think he saw blood on its maw when it got off Asmodeus. The human rolled onto his side, gasping painfully, clutching his midsection with his left arm – the right one looked even worse than before – but he didn't look as if he had his throat torn out.

Draco exhaled the breath he hadn't been aware he had been holding.

He watched Asmodeus draw his wand, which miraculously had not been lost during battle, and cast several healing spells on himself left-handed. To reach the cuts on his legs, he had to sit up halfway, his face screwed in a grimace of pain, but it evidently didn't affect his casting ability because the cuts on his arms and legs were mending quickly. Something that apparently was a diagnostics spell followed, revealing that both bones in his right forearm were almost completely shattered where the creature had brutally grabbed him, and that he had some broken ribs and internal injuries from the punch to the stomach. Draco hissed in sympathy; that had to hurt like hell. He wondered how Asmodeus had still been able to fight with those wounds.

The creature had come closer to study the diagnostics charm, too, no sign of it attacking again. The two were talking a bit, with Asmodeus starting to sway more and more. Apparently having lost the argument, Asmodeus slumped back to the ground, and Draco could see the sweat on his forehead and the gritted teeth. The creature somehow summoned another wand from somewhere in the dark, aiming it at the man. One spell repaired the internal damage, the next one aligned all the bone splinters, and the final one fused them back together.

Draco watched Asmodeus barely hold in his screams, finally relaxing when the pain abated. Slowly the man sat up, once again talking to the creature. Both of them laughed at something, and then Asmodeus extinguished the burning grass with a wave of his hand. The meadow was once again as dark as night.

Shaking slightly from the fight he had witnessed, Draco let himself slide to the floor beneath the window. Dear Merlin, they had only been _practicing_! What would those two be like during a real fight? No wonder the vampire respected Asmodeus; the man was fighting not on a different level from Draco, but on an entirely different _world_.

Dimly he registered that the flashes of light had started once again, but Draco had too much to think about. Slowly, he made his way back into his room, creeping into his bed. It took a long time for his frozen feet to thaw again.

He had never seen a fight like that before; he didn't know of anybody who would be able to stand up to the creature like Asmodeus had. Certainly none of the regular Death Eaters. His father perhaps, but he had a feeling that even he might have trouble. Maybe a few others of the Inner Circle.

He wondered whether the strange creature would still be there tomorrow, and he winced at the thought that it might also want to feed on blood. But, on the other hand, it hadn't bitten Asmodeus, so perhaps it fed on somewhat more normal fare. But something with such huge jaws…

He wondered how the vampire would fare against the creature. Or Mariah. He had a niggling suspicion that Mariah was even stronger than the creature, making him pale anew. There was no way he was going to escape her service; with such power, she'd catch him without problem.

Ever since childhood, he'd heard stories about werewolves, vampires, and other creatures that had special fighting abilities, but he'd never quite believed them. Oh, yes, he had known that they were faster and stronger than humans, but he had never realized just how much better they were. It was a small miracle that not all humans were enslaved. But, on the other hand, if those stories from childhood were true, maybe there also were those humans that were magically very strong – sorcerers they were called. After having just seen Asmodeus fight …

He didn't quite know anymore what to think, not able to reach a conclusion, and not able to calm his thoughts enough to sleep again. Finally, when the first rays of the sun shone into his window, he sighed. The answers would be of no use to him, because he was much too weak and already enslaved. Getting up, he fatalistically chose one of the robes Mariah had bought for him, making his way downstairs. There was nothing he could do against them.

A quick glance out of the window of the sitting room revealed that either the creature had left, or that Asmodeus was fighting with it somewhere else. He wondered where the vampire was; perhaps he had cheered them on from the shadows. Maybe the vampire had left together with the creature?

The door opening suddenly answered that question.

Both Asmodeus and the vampire entered the room, laughing at something. Asmodeus didn't even look singed at the edges, no signs of his vicious duel with the creature. No blood flecks, no tears in his clothes, no pain. Not even exhausted, Draco noticed almost enviously. If Draco hadn't seen him fight the creature earlier, he wouldn't have believed it.

The vampire looked as immaculate as ever, too, eyes lighting up when he saw Draco. Despite his earlier fatalistic thoughts, Draco couldn't help the fear the vampire and his bat inspired in him, backing away as far as he could. And that seemed to play right into the vampire's hunting instincts, because he became even more ferocious, focusing completely on Draco with that unnerving hunger…

Asmodeus deliberately stepped in front of the vampire, shaking Draco out of his daze. Taking the opportunity, he started inching closer to the opening towards the dining room. The vampire threw himself onto the couch, growling dangerously, but he didn't attack. As soon as Asmodeus had turned towards the kitchen, however, Draco felt an invisible vice close around him, pick him up, and hurl him towards the couch.

He yelped in panic, struggling to get away from the spell, realizing to his horror that the vampire was summoning him wandlessly. Before he could react, the vampire already was at his throat, clamping iron fingers around his neck. And then, the terrifying relaxation of being fed on spread through his body, stopping all his struggles at the source.

"You get his blood all over the carpet, you're cleaning it up," Asmodeus frowned. In his relaxed haze, Draco only heard his voice as background noise, not very important. "You're like a toddler, you know, can't trust you with anything."

The lick the vampire gave Draco's throat when he removed his fangs was almost enjoyable. For the moment, he felt the vampire's voice more like a rumble against his skin, not the actual words he was saying. "I'm wounded, mortally wounded. It's a vampire's job to torture mortals, that's why we exist."

But the words were rapidly becoming clearer now that the vampire had stopped feeding. And together with them, the horror rose again. From the corner of his eye, he saw something small and black descend onto him, the vampire's cold fingers securely clamped around his neck. Small claws were digging into his shoulder, and another set of fangs, smaller than the vampire's, lodged itself in his throat. Draco hated the bat feeding on him more than the vampire, because the bat was no more than a small animal.

"You really are a repulsive creature."

Asmodeus' words made him flinch. Although they were probably meant for the vampire, those words could also refer to Draco's situation – he had never seen either vampire or bat drink from Asmodeus' neck. Draco was too weak, not fighting enough, merely letting them feed on him. Asmodeus, on the contrary, could meet them face to face, not in the least afraid of them.

Caught in his self-recriminations, he barely realized Asmodeus leaving the room to go upstairs.

"Mhm, your blood is starting to taste a lot better, but I think you could do with a little more carbohydrates in your diet. And a little bit more blood sugar. Have you eaten yet?"

With the hand still clamped around his neck, it was impossible to shake his head, so he stuttered a hesitant 'no'.

Jumping up like stung by a bee, the vampire declared: "Then I'm going to show you what real pancakes are!"

Draco was completely perplexed by the vampire's sudden burst of joviality. Apparently, the vampire had forgotten that he'd set Draco on a strict diet only two days ago, where pancakes were absolutely forbidden. But Draco wasn't going to complain; he didn't like all those vegetables at all. However, he hadn't seen any vampire eat solid food yet – could vampires cook at all? At least something that was even remotely palatable?

The vampire had already left for the kitchen, taking his bat with him. As soon as he heard him making noise in the kitchen, Draco relaxed somewhat. It was nice to know where the vampire was for the moment, not having to fear being pounced upon at the most surprising instances, and not having to fear being watched.

Draco decided to use the opportunity and got onto the couch, since the floor was quite hard. In the two days he'd been at the cottage, Draco had realized that both the vampire and his bat were somewhat obsessed over that couch, claiming it for themselves whenever they were in the room. But now that they were in the kitchen, and probably occupied for some time, Draco wanted to see what was so special about that couch.

Well, at least it was comfortable, he thought, his eyes getting heavier by the second. Since his dreams had been filled with nightmares, and he had spent several hours first watching Asmodeus fight and then thinking about that fight, he hadn't slept very much. And the noise from the kitchen meant that he was currently safe from the vampire, and it was warm in here, and it was starting to smell very good…

A thunderclap woke him up, and a strangely charred smell reached him over the baking pancakes. Outside, the weather was very nice, the sun shining its warming rays onto the couch he was stretched out on. The thunderclap couldn't have come from outside. What had happened?

From the kitchen, he could hear Asmodeus and the vampire argue.

"That's disgusting," Asmodeus said.

"Have you ever _tried_ blood syrup?"

Draco made a face – apparently, vampires were not to be trusted alone in kitchens. And apparently, Asmodeus shared Draco's opinion.

"No. Aside from the horrible taste, I don't want any diseases."

"The donor was healthy."

"Yeah, right, people who willingly give their blood to vampires are always healthy."

Draco's snicker died in his throat. There were people who _willingly_ let vampires feed on them? Just what would make them trust the vampire enough to be sure they wouldn't be killed? Vampires were so much stronger than humans; a simple twist of their hands, and they could snap necks. And they couldn't always control their bloodlust, sometimes draining their donors dry even if they didn't mean to.

Draco shuddered. So far, he had been lucky, but that could change at the drop of a hat.

"That's my spot." Draco's head swerved to the opening that connected the sitting room to the dining room. The vampire had somehow managed to sneak up on him and was standing there menacingly. "Get off."

From behind the vampire, Draco could hear Asmodeus snicker in the kitchen, but he didn't quite see what was so funny. The vampire looked utterly incensed, starting to growl in a way that made Draco's bones ache and his blood leave his face.

Hastily, he scrambled off the couch, deciding that a little bit of hunger wouldn't kill him, but staying in that room definitely would. He didn't care how undignified he seemed, tripping over his feet like that, but fear propelled him on. With half a mind, he was waiting for a spell to either hit him in the back or summon him towards the vampire, but he escaped unharmed.

Just when he felt safe, about to start climbing the stairs, a hand caught his arm. Draco whirled around, shrinking back, and almost managed to tug his arm free. In response, the grip tightened, and he was dragged back towards the sitting room.

Finally he realized that it was not the vampire who had caught him but Asmodeus. What was Asmodeus going to do with him? The man – sorcerer? – was still smiling, not a nasty, predatory smile, but an amused one, and Draco didn't know what to make of it. Draco almost recoiled physically when he saw the vampire stretched out across the whole length of the couch, head propped up by a hand, teeth bared ferally.

Asmodeus dragged Draco further into the room, not heeding his resistance. "Actually it's my couch," the man commented when he sat Draco into an armchair. "And Draco, the last time he tried to chase me off, I found that the threat of a castration spell can be an excellent deterrent."

A castration spell? Well, if he had a wand, he would do more than just threaten. And if he were as strong as Asmodeus. But as it was, he couldn't help but tremble slightly at the sight of the man leaving for the kitchen once again, the vampire looking after Asmodeus angrily.

The vampire turned back towards Draco, his gaze so intense that his eyes seemed to be glowing. "Don't you dare think of that," he growled, and Draco shrunk as far back into the armchair as possible. "Now, come here. I think it's time you learned some proper manners. Your education is lacking severely."

Trembling, Draco got up, not wanting to anger the vampire unnecessarily. The vampire motioned for him to come closer to the couch until his knees almost touched it.

"First lesson: Slaves are not allowed on any furniture as long as their master is present. You will kneel in easy reach of my hands, on the floor. If I'm especially generous, I will allow you to sit on a pillow. Understood?"

Draco nodded jerkily and stiffly sank to his knees. The vampire reached out for him, and drew him closer so that Draco was forced to slump against the couch. The position was quite uncomfortable, but he didn't dare move because a cold hand was carding through his hair.

"That's better. Now, since I have already fed on you today, we will skip lesson two and go straight for lesson – "

"Daray!!!" an infernal roar reverberated from the kitchen, and the vampire started snickering. "If you ever want to see your flying mouse again, you'd better come and get that squeaky menace out of my kitchen right NOW, and if it EVER decides to drop something in my pancake batter again, you will get it back deep fried, you hear me!?!"

The vampire wheezed with laughter, barely staying upright on the couch, and Draco privately thought it was a pity that vampires couldn't die from lack of breath. The vampire certainly would have asphyxiated otherwise.

A sudden thunderclap shook the cottage and a black blur whizzed into the sitting room, screeching in the highest tones, nesting in the vampire's hair. The picture looked so ridiculous, the bat completely messing up the vampire's neatly combed hair, that Draco had to bite back his laughter.

"Lesson three," the vampire growled at Draco, his hand clenched tightly around Draco's head, "never, ever laugh at your master!"

Turning his head towards the kitchen, he roared back. "If you have harmed ONE hair on Satan's head with your infernal electricity, I will show you a whole new meaning to pain!"

"You and what army?" came the shouted answer. "And Draco, if you're not completely disgusted yet, breakfast is ready!"

Draco anxiously looked at the vampire who was still growling slightly, but fortunately not at Draco. Had Asmodeus been the cause of the thunder? Draco had seen him use it outside earlier this morning, but to use it in the kitchen? Either Asmodeus had superb control over that spell, or he was slightly off his rocker. Draco was beginning to think that the truth lay somewhere in between. Living with a vampire couldn't be healthy.

Since Draco was kneeling so close to the vampire, it would be impossible to escape without drawing the vampire's attention, but even the possibility of having to eat pancakes with _something_ dropped into them began to sound better than staying in the sitting room. Holding his breath, he got up. Before he had gotten to his feet though, the vampire was already gripping his arm tightly, almost hissing.

"And just where do you think you're going?"

Draco froze, barely managing to stutter, "B-b-breakfast"

The vampire growled. "Lesson four. Always ask before doing something. Politely. Now, where are you going?"

Nodding quickly, Draco stumbled over the words, too scared to feel humiliated. "M-may I go to b-breakfast?"

The iron grip released him, and Draco fled the room even before he heard the vampire's honey-tinged answer of "Oh, why yes, certainly." To his surprise, the kitchen didn't look the slightest bit singed, but Asmodeus was frowning harshly at the splatters of pancake batter on the kitchen counter. Draco anxiously stood in the doorway, not quite daring to enter the room, but not wanting to be caught by the vampire, either.

Asmodeus turned towards him, the frown leaving his face. "Ah, there you are. Don't worry, I already fished the spoon out again, and the first batch has escaped completely unharmed. And since I've apparently come just in time, the maple syrup's still unbloody."

Hesitatingly, Draco asked, "The b-bat dropped a spoon into the batter?"

Absently, Asmodeus nodded, already glaring at the spills again. "Yeah, and the next time I see it, I'm going to skin it!"

Slightly relieved that the _something_ was nothing worse, Draco carefully sat down at the small table. With a wave of his hand – without a wand, Draco noted – Asmodeus cleaned up the mess and placed a plate filled with pancakes in front of Draco.

"Here you go. I hope you like wholemeal pancakes. That's what Daray was making."

Curiously inspecting his food, Draco tried a small piece since he had never had wholemeal pancakes before. They tasted – harsher, not as soft as regular pancakes. But since more syrup drowned out the slightly bitter aftertaste, Draco decided that they weren't bad. Definitely better than beans and lentils.

Asmodeus didn't even sit down to eat, wolfing down his pancakes while watching those still in the pan. As soon as the last of the batter was spread in the pan, he quickly waved his wand to clean the bowl, sending all ingredients flying back where they had come from.

"How good are you at herbology?"

Draco finished the last of his pancakes, swallowing quickly. "I- I know most of the standard p-potions ingredients, and can harvest them."

"Good. Come with me."

Asmodeus waved his wand again, and their plates and the pan were cleaned. The rest of the pancakes they hadn't eaten, he put on a separate plate, and seeing Draco's curious look he commented. "For Daray."

Since when could vampires eat solid food?

"Oh, they can eat food, but it's not so much for nourishment than for enjoyment. And no, you didn't say that out loud, it was written all over your face."

Coloring slightly, Draco looked away. Was he that easy to read?

"Daray," Asmodeus called towards the sitting room, "your pancakes are done. If you want to stop sulking, you can even pour your blood on them as long as you don't put it into the syrup bottle itself. And please clean up after yourself, I don't want my kitchen looking like a slaughter house."

There was no answer from the sitting room, but Asmodeus flinched slightly, calling out again. "Draco and I are going to the greenhouses." This time, Asmodeus' features only tightened a bit as he shrugged and left the room. "Suit yourself. Come, Draco."

Observing the strange, one-sided conversation, Draco concluded that the vampire had used telepathy to answer Asmodeus directly. And if the vampire's telepathic voice was as strong as Mariah's, it would explain that flinch.

Obediently following Asmodeus out of the house, Draco shivered in the cool morning air. Wet dew covered the grass, but the sun was starting to make serious headway with it. Today, the unicorns and thestrals were quite far away, farther out than usual. Had the battle that night scared them away? Looking around, Draco found it curious to find no signs of a struggle. None of the grass looked burned, no up-turned earth, nothing. And Draco was quite sure that this was where Asmodeus had been fighting a few hours earlier.

All of a sudden, Draco felt himself incapacitated with nerve-wracking pain. With a scream, his legs collapsed out from beneath him, making him writhe on the ground in agony. A thick pressure on his mind made thinking almost impossible, quickly turning into a crushing force. Something inside him burned hideously and he screamed, not knowing how to turn it off. Dimly, he felt Asmodeus hurry back to his side and drag him back towards the cottage.

After seemingly a small eternity, the pain wore off. Inhaling deeply, he shook off the last of his agony. He knew that he wouldn't find any injuries beyond what he had done to himself with his thrashing. He had already experienced that kind of pain once, when Mariah had showed him what would happen if he dared to leave her boundaries without permission. It wasn't quite as all-consuming as the Cruciatus but of nearly equal intensity. And it didn't leave the twitchy feeling of the most popular pain curses, merely a bone-deep ache that would go away in the space of minutes.

Sitting up cautiously, he caught sight of Asmodeus crouching to his right, watching him steadily. "Sorry," the sorcerer said, "I forgot that Mariah tied you only to the inner set of my bloodwards. I can't detect any lasting injuries, but do you still hurt?"

Exhaling shakily, Draco shook his head. "N-No. But – the greenhouses…"

He trailed off, not wanting to actually voice his fear. Asmodeus apparently caught on, nodding calmingly. "If you still want to come with me to the greenhouses, I can try and temporarily extend the inner bloodwards. I'm not a hundred percent sure it will work, but I can't see any reason at the moment why it shouldn't."

Draco hesitated. He was not keen on experiencing that kind of pain again, but he was even less keen on spending time any more time than absolutely necessary inside the cottage with an angry vampire always nearby. He hated being used as a practice dummy for the vampire's wandless spells. With Asmodeus at least, he was reasonably safe. Finally, he nodded.

Asmodeus got up without comment and moved a few steps away to where Draco assumed the inner edge of the wards began. Drawing a knife from seemingly out of nowhere, the sorcerer unflinchingly sliced deeply into his own palms. Immediately blood began to well up, dripping steadily to the ground. And like with Mariah, strange golden lines appeared on Asmodeus' skin, those focused along his palms, his wrists, his throat and his temples. He didn't know how far they extended beneath the clothing because the glow wasn't strong enough to shine through. Slowly, Draco became aware of the ground starting to glow in the same golden hue where the blood met it, spreading slowly from there in a line that encircled the cottage.

On an unspoken sign, Asmodeus suddenly started moving with his arms spread apart, still bleeding freely, towards one of the greenhouses. The golden glow followed him wherever his blood hit, and Draco was mesmerized. Besides the golden glow, a cloud of magic seemed to surround Asmodeus, making his hair wave slightly in the wind. It was strong, very strong, and Draco knew that if that power was turned against him, he'd be in serious trouble.

Finally Asmodeus stopped once again, with the golden glow spreading along the lines where the greenhouse's bloodwards had to be. Then, all of Asmodeus started to glow golden, too, and Draco felt completely awed by the magic rippling off Asmodeus.

It felt at least as strong as Dumbledore's.

At long last the glow subsided and he could see Asmodeus heal his palms quickly, take a vial from his belt, and gulp down its contents. Walking back the same way he had taken before, Asmodeus seemed almost energized although he was still pale from bloodloss.

"Come. Stay close to me, the corridor I've warded off is invisible and only extend the width of my arms."

Draco immediately got up, following only two steps behind. At the boundary of the cottage wards, Asmodeus stopped briefly. "Do you feel any pain yet?"

Draco shook his head and took a further step. Still nothing. He exhaled slowly, only now realizing how tense he had been.

Asmodeus nodded. "Good. Now, follow me, I can feel where the wards are."

Draco soon found himself standing in front of the greenhouse, with Asmodeus turning back towards him. "I hope you know the drill: don't touch anything you don't know, ask if you're not sure and, for Merlin's sake, try not to get poisoned. I have many antidotes on hand, but not for everything in there. The spring peas are ready to be harvested, and I need Calojurn bark, Aescolapius leaves, Dittany roots, Flutterby Bush leaves, and Heartsworth blossoms. Anything you don't know how to get?"

Draco shook his head, thinking of what kind of potion Asmodeus was trying to make. Calojurn bark was good against burns and blisters, Heartsworth blossoms to calm, and Flutterby leaves to energize. The rest were standard ingredients for healing potions. "Do you intend to make an Aescolapius solution from the leaves?"

Asmodeus looked pleased. "Yes. Since you already seem to know what I'm making, you can go ahead and collect the Aescolapius leaves. Here is a pair of Dragonhide gloves, a pair of scissors, and a bowl of water."

Draco watched Asmodeus conjure the bowl and scissors, and summon the Dragonhide gloves. A quick _Aguamenti_ later, and the bowl was half-ways filled with water for the Aescolapius leaves. As soon as they were cut, those leaves had to be stored in water, since in fresh air they tended to lose most of their potency within the first ten minutes after harvest. The water would conserve those healing agents.

Handing them to Draco, Asmodeus finally opened the door to the greenhouse. Stepping inside, Draco was immediately encased in a cool breeze since none of the plants liked the hot weather they were having outside. Something smelled quite pungently, and looking downwards he immediately recognized the source. Bobotuber was growing left and right of the path, and Draco was not very keen on making its acquaintance.

Hurrying after Asmodeus, he took in the many different green, red, and brownish-yellow plants, mentally marking the most dangerous ones. All of them were plants that preferred a cool and damp climate, which the greenhouse simulated adequately. He even saw a dark corner with Devil's Snare. Fortunately, they were moving away from it.

Asmodeus halted in front of a Flutterby Bush, conjuring a pair of scissors of his own. "The Aescolapius flowers are over there, next to the Snapdragons. And the spring peas are on the other side of the Aescolapius flowers. If you want to harvest them first, here's another bowl. Oh, and if anything's wrong, just call or scream, or whatever."

Nodding, Draco moved into the direction Asmodeus had pointed. He quickly found the snapdragons, which were snapping at him viciously. In the beginning, he had wondered why Asmodeus had handed him the Dragonhide gloves, but considering he'd have to work right next to the aggressive snapdragons, they were a god-sent. He swore that this breed even had tiny sharp teeth.

Placing his bowl of water on the ground, a safe distance from both snapdragons and spring peas, he decided to start on the spring peas first. Spring peas were named not after the season, but because when they were ripe, the peas tended to spring out of their pods when jostled too much. Since he was not in the mood to get pelted by peas left and right, it would be better to start on them first.

Hefting the thankfully lidded bowl, he got to work.

When Asmodeus called to him for a break, he was sweating despite the constant cool breeze. Spring peas were annoyingly springy, and he hadn't even gotten to the Aescolapius leaves yet. Still, he was thankful for the offered cup of water, downing it thirstily. Asmodeus wordlessly refilled it, and Draco drank deeply from it once again. From somewhere, Asmodeus conjured sandwiches, and the two of them ate silently.

"Are you done with the Aescolapius leaves?"

Shaking his head, Draco noted the bowls filled with the other ingredients standing next to Asmodeus. "I'm still working on the s-spring peas."

"Then I'm going to help you with the Aescolapius leaves."

Nodding silently, Draco took up his lidded bowl and went at the spring peas again. Asmodeus took the water bowl he had carefully placed out of the way, and started gathering the leaves. Only after a while did Draco realize that Asmodeus wasn't wearing any gloves while working next to the snapdragons. Seeing another snapdragon about to bite Asmodeus' hand, he just barely held in his shout of surprise when the snapdragon collided with something less than an inch off Asmodeus' hand. A wandless shield!

Returning to his spring peas, both of them finished their tasks approximately at the same time. Asmodeus was carrying most of the bowls, floating them in front of him with wandless magic on their return trip to the cottage. To Draco's surprise, it already was late afternoon when they returned. He helped Asmodeus carry the ingredients inside, for the first time seeing the door left of the staircase unlocked. As he had thought, it opened to a potions laboratory, not as fancy as the one in the Slytherin dungeons but still quite elaborately set up.

A large stone workbench stretched across about half the room, shelves with ingredients lining the walls to both sides. There were two stools, both of them placed under the workbench. On the other side of the room, there were shelves with clean beakers, vials, cauldrons, stirring rods, and everything else one needed to make a potion. If the potions laboratory was on the ground floor though, what was behind those two locked doors in the basement?

"Leave the spring peas on the table," Asmodeus instructed. After a long glance at Draco, he continued. "Perhaps you can help me prepare the potions tomorrow."

Nodding slowly, Draco recognized the dismissal for what it was, quietly closing the door to the potions laboratory behind him. Inwardly still exhilarated at the opportunity to once again brew some potions, he failed to notice the vampire sneaking up on him.

"And just where have you been all day long," the vampire growled menacingly into his ear, placing an icy cold hand on his shoulder.

Draco went completely still, elation suddenly gone in favor of fear. "O-outside in the g-g-greenhouse – "

"Have I allowed you to go to the greenhouse?"

"B-b-but – " Draco stuttered confused.

"But nothing. Repeat lesson four to me."

Frantically, Draco tried to remember what the vampire had said this morning. "A-always ask?"

"That is right," the vampire purred, "slaves are to ask their masters before doing anything. And have you asked me if you can go to the greenhouse?"

"N-no – " Draco was shaking by now, cold sweat breaking out over his whole body. He thought Asmodeus had told the vampire...

"So you admit that you have disobeyed your master?" Before Draco could answer, the vampire growled. "And disobedient slaves have to be punished. If you scream, I will only extend your punishment."

Biting the inside of his cheek, Draco nearly screamed nonetheless when sharp fangs sunk into his neck. Contrary to all the other times the vampire had fed on him, the pain didn't abate, staying a constant, bone-jarring pressure. Slowly, Draco clawed one of his hands into his thigh, the different pain helping somewhat to divert his attention from the panic rising in his throat. Just when he thought he couldn't endure it any longer, the vampire withdrew his fangs and licked the wounds closed.

Gasping for breath, Draco would have collapsed to the floor if it hadn't been for the vampire holding him upright.

"Do you remember your lesson now?"

"Y-yes," Draco nodded hastily, trembling on his whole body.

"Good. Now that you've already spent the whole morning with Rahkesh, I want your company. Follow me."

Almost hyperventilating, Draco tried not to think of what the vampire meant. To his relief, the vampire didn't go upstairs but went into the sitting room where he immediately sprawled across the whole length of the couch. Remembering the rest of his 'lessons', Draco reluctantly knelt next to the couch, and the vampire purred.

"You learn quickly, mortal. It is almost a pity; I think I will have to find more reasons to punish you. Your pain and fear taste so sweet."

Patting Draco's shivering head, the vampire gathered a newspaper from the couch table and proceeded to read it. After several minutes of the vampire's attention being focused elsewhere, Draco's terror gradually receded. Another few minutes later, boredom began to set in, only startled out of it when the vampire turned a page.

Finally gathering enough courage, Draco asked. "M-m-may I fetch one of my b-books to read?"

Eyes lowered submissively to the floor, he nonetheless felt the vampire's gaze on him. After half an eternity, which he spent trying not to fidget under the stare, the curt reply came. "You may."

Trying not to fall over his half-asleep legs, Draco hurried upstairs to his room to get one of the potions texts he had started on. Asmodeus had provided him with a surprising variety of books on all kinds of subjects, and he hadn't even made a dent into them. Hurrying back to the vampire, this time cursing the pins and needles feeling in his legs, Draco settled back against the couch more comfortably than before.

When no comment came from the vampire, Draco slowly relaxed and opened the book. It was the first time ever since his capture that he almost forgot the presence of a vampire in the room outside of a chess match.

**

* * *

A/N:** I'm not going to cover _every_ day, so you shouldn't wonder where Day Two went – if nothing special happens that can't be covered by a simple flash-back, I won't write a whole chapter. But it will be a rare occurence when I skip more than one day. You shouldn't get used to the chapter length though - the next ones will be considerably shorter.

And thanks to those who have reviewd so far!


	5. Day 4

**Day 4**

Still shaking slightly from his nightmare, he silently padded into the kitchen. It was early evening, the sun not even close to setting completely. The tiled floor was cold under his feet. Draco surmised he must have looked especially exhausted earlier because Asmodeus had sent him to get a few hours of sleep. But dreams had interrupted his rest, and now he was hoping that they wouldn't know he was awake.

After another exhausting day of collecting potions ingredients and boiling Aescolapius solution, Draco needed the sleep. However, thanks to his nightmare, he felt worse than ever instead of refreshed. Hesitating briefly before entering the room, thirst overwhelmed him and he cautiously made his way to the room.

The sight of fangs bared at him sent a sudden throb of icy cold terror through him, remembering especially vividly what those other vampires had done to him with his nightmares still fresh in mind. He wanted to flee, but an invisible power stopped him, shoving him further into the kitchen where he belatedly realized Asmodeus was watching the spectacle.

Draco didn't understand – sometimes, the sorcerer protected him, other times he just stood back and watched Draco like a hawk, and most of the time, he was chatting with the vampire on a friendly, equal basis. Draco didn't think that Asmodeus was a slave, not to this vampire, and probably not to a stronger one, either. He seemed much too independent for that. But then why associate with a vampire at all?

Why didn't the vampire suck Asmodeus dry? Was he that strong?

"Good evening, Draco."

He flinched slightly, and almost immediately chastised himself for it. Asmodeus had never done anything to him, unless you counted the daily potions to block his thoughts.

He didn't quite know what to make of the sorcerer, and he was beginning not to quite know what to make of the vampire, either. He had watched how, on several occasions, Asmodeus had electrocuted the vampire with soundless and wandless spells, and the vampire had more than once threatened to rip Asmodeus' throat out. Asmodeus had merely laughed, his unnervingly gold, white and black eyes never showing any fear.

And both were staring at him right now, with the vampire slowly growing angry. Belatedly, he realized that they were waiting for a reaction from him.

"G-good eve-evening," he managed to stutter, almost immediately hating himself for his show of fear.

The vampire smirked. "Good evening, my little Happymeal on legs. Come here."

He didn't quite know what a 'Happymeal' was, but the name spoke for itself. And, apparently the vampire wanted to – again? But he already had today – however, the vampire's quickly growing frown scared him even more.

It took all his willpower not to start hyperventilating when he reluctantly inched closer to the smirking vampire who started baring his fangs once again.

As soon as he was in range, the vampire's inhumanly strong and quick hands snatched his arm and hauled him closer, bending his head roughly to the side. His teeth gritted to hold back a silent scream when he felt the vampire's teeth break his skin, growling possessively while he was feeding.

Slowly, he clenched and unclenched his hands to keep his terrified energy in check, knowing from painful experience that struggling would make everything worse. The whole day, the vampire hadn't bothered inducing the happy, lethargic feeling in Draco, the one that had happened when Mariah had fed on him before. At least it wasn't the ripping agony of when the vampire had punished him, but it still hurt. Draco wasn't sure which way he preferred – pain or someone messing with his mind. None of the above would be the ideal solution, but Draco knew that was an illusion.

He could see Asmodeus shaking his head at the sight, commenting to the vampire that he better not spill any blood on the floor, which earned him a raised finger. Asmodeus retaliated with a carelessly flung knife that nonetheless was perfectly aimed at the vampire's forehead – less than an inch from Draco's face. Draco was starting to fear for his safety.

Thankfully, the vampire caught it before it could do any damage and returned it exactly the same way, finally removing his teeth from Draco's neck. Draco immediately scrambled out of the way of danger, but still close enough to watch their interactions. To his surprise, the vampire almost pouted.

"Hey, I thought you wanted to keep the mortal alive? Don't you know that playing with knives is dangerous?"

Asmodeus smirked. "Sure I do. And I think it should be more than clear who I've been aiming at."

"You still could have killed him."

Asmodeus shrugged. "That's why I didn't do this."

A small ripple of static electricity under his clothes was the only warning. From Asmodeus' hand, a bolt of lightening flashed towards the vampire's backside, who didn't have a chance of evading it. With a pained growl, the vampire started cursing, rubbing his sore parts all the while. "Damnit, Rahkesh, what did you do that for!"

"You asked for it."

"I did not!"

"Well, at least you offered."

"Oh, shut it. That smarts, you know?"

"That was the whole point?"

Shaking his head, the vampire gingerly crossed the dining room to get to the sitting room. "Just you wait," he growled over his shoulder, "that calls for revenge!"

Asmodeus merely smirked. "Suit yourself. Come on, Draco, since the poor, little, fried vampire has already had his meal, it's time for ours."

Suddenly finding all attention focused on him, Draco froze when the vampire bellowed. "Stop laughing, mortal, or you won't survive our next encounter!"

Asmodeus merely rolled his eyes. "And then Mariah's going to eat you alive. Come on, Draco, let's leave him to heal his wee little vampire ego."

Still a little bit shell-shocked, Draco managed to follow Asmodeus without completely turning his back on the vampire. He watched Asmodeus start preparing a hearty dinner, somehow managing to make even Draco's 'special diet' look appetizing.

"How do you do it?" Almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth, Draco realized what he had said, and he had to fight not to clamp his hands in front of his lips.

Asmodeus didn't even turn around, but he answered calmly. "Do what? Throw the knife at Daray? That's practice."

Somewhat encouraged by the nonviolent reaction, Draco dared to keep asking. "No. I mean – living with him. Why doesn't he just feed on you, kill you, or something?"

"Like he does with you? What do you think I am doing differently from you?"

This stumped Draco. "Erh… you are stronger than him?"

Asmodeus shook his head. "No. If we were to really fight, I'm quite not sure who'd win, and when I first met him, I didn't know much more than you do now. Try something else."

Biting his lower lip, a habit from his childhood days, Draco thought. "You know older vampires than him?"

"I met them only after meeting Daray. And the older they get, the stronger they are, and they are just as insane and violent as Daray is, with maybe a few exceptions. Only, they have even more power to back them up."

"Then why…" Draco trailed off when Asmodeus sighed.

"You can't be that stupid. If he weren't a vampire, what would you say our relationship is?"

"Erh, well… you seem more like … friends?"

Asmodeus nodded. "Good. Now, why do you think I can't be friends with a vampire?"

Draco spluttered. "But… but that's…"

"That's what?" A voice growled from behind him, and Draco froze. He hadn't even heard the vampire sneak up behind him, let alone seen him.

"N…Nothing," he stuttered, feeling the vampire's cool breath on his neck.

Asmodeus intervened. "Oh, come on, Daray, you've already fed on him, and he hasn't had anything to eat since breakfast. Do you really want him to faint?"

"But I'm still hungry," the vampire whined.

Asmodeus rolled his eyes. "You've become too spoiled. Now go and make some potions – there are some freshly shelled spring peas – or amuse yourself elsewhere. With you lurking behind him, he's more likely to throw up than eat."

Grumbling the vampire retreated again, but not before flinging a small flurry of spells at Asmodeus. The man managed to redirect most of them to the ceiling and the walls, but two got through. A bright gash opened on his forearm, and his skin darkened to a sickly purple. Asmodeus merely rolled his eyes, smirked, and sent a barely visible but tightly controlled cone of power out the door after the vampire's retreating back where it dissipated against his shirt. It didn't seem to have any effect, but Asmodeus' smirk grew wider with every passing second. Draco heard a door open and close again, the vampire having vanished from sight a while ago.

With a raised eyebrow, he looked at Asmodeus, who was still grinning like a lunatic. "What was that all about?"

Asmodeus' innocent look wasn't quite believable, with his purple skin marring the effect thoroughly. From the gash in his arm, blood dripped every once in a while, giving him an even more demented look. "Oh, nothing. I think Daray will find out the effects in the next few seconds."

With his left, Asmodeus waved his wand over his forearm and his skin, returning both to normal.

"RAHKESH! I swear, if that charm affects anything besides my clothes, you…"

The vampire's noise was abruptly cut off after another wave of Asmodeus' wand. From the way silence fell, Draco surmised it wasn't because the vampire had stopped shouting, but rather because of some kind of privacy ward going up.

Asmodeus' sly smile turned conspiratory. "Shrinking charm," he commented succinctly.

Draco's eyes widened. With those leather clothes, the shrinking charm must have become quite… uncomfortable. "Won't he be… angry?"

"Naah," Asmodeus smiled, "payback for the skin and the cut. He's just going to try and get me back for that. Better see if I find some more wards for my bedroom door. Could you set the table?"

Mutely, Draco complied, since Asmodeus apparently didn't want to continue their previous conversation. Draco was too confused, anyway.

When he was done, Asmodeus, who had been cooking entirely without magic, heaped vegetables and thinly sliced white meat on two plates, together with a yoghurt dip.

To Draco's surprise, Asmodeus took the other plate and started to dig in. Why was he eating that food, too? Was he also required to keep his blood tasty for some vampire?

Seeing that Draco hadn't started yet on his own meal, Asmodeus waved, "Go ahead. It tastes better warm anyways."

Still watching incredulously, Draco slowly took up his own cutlery and tried not to make too much of a face at the barely cooked celery, kidney beans, and broccoli.

"You know, staring is impolite. If you want to know something, ask. The worst thing that could happen is that I don't answer."

Draco flushed at the admonishment. His father would have corrected such rude behavior quite a bit more violently. "I… well, you eat the same food as me…"

"And so you thought that some other vampire is feeding on me? What if I told you that I liked this food?"

Draco looked at his plate, and then back at Asmodeus, who was once again smirking. Draco thought he must have looked disbelievingly enough, because Asmodeus laughed out loud. "No, you're right. Although I'm not a picky eater, I could imagine better things for dinner than celery and beans. Do you know why Daray makes you eat those things?"

Somehow, whenever anything concerning vampires was mentioned, Draco's mind threatened to blank out in gibbering fear. Slowly, he was getting control over those reactions, but he was still very much terrified. Deliberately, he tried to think objectively about the situation; however he couldn't help the sweat breaking out on his forehead. Asmodeus seemed to sense his struggles because he left him alone.

Finally, Draco managed to remember what he had been told before. "Because the… b-b-blood taste better?"

He almost couldn't force the word 'blood' over his lips, but he managed. Asmodeus nodded at him. "Yes. From what I have gathered, healthy blood tastes better, although emotions and race make up most of the flavor. Now, why do you think I eat that stuff?"

Thinking a little bit, much calmer now that they weren't talking about him anymore, Draco answered. "To keep yourself healthy?"

Asmodeus sighed. "I have left several overviews of all magical disciplines in your room. Have you actually read any of them?"

"The one by Thorstinius Telarius." Draco was confused at the sudden change in topic.

"Ah. While he elaborates very thoroughly on wandless magic and thread magic, he doesn't have to say much about what I am talking about. Bloodmagic, as the name already suggests, deals with blood, and I am planning to do a ritual quite soon. For that, my blood chemistry has to be as close to perfect as possible."

Draco reeled back as if struck. Asmodeus was a Blood Mage? Even the Dark Lord didn't practice bloodmagic very often; it was that dark! And whom was Asmodeus going to sacrifice? How could the man talk so calmly about torturing someone to death? No wonder Asmodeus was getting along that well with vampires!

He gradually became aware of Asmodeus staring at him strangely, fork raised halfways to his mouth. "What's the matter now?"

"A-are you g-going to k-k-kill me?" It was the only conclusion Draco could come to; surely, the man wouldn't sacrifice the vampire. The exasperated sigh coming from Asmodeus made him shrink back even further.

"Did you read anything about bloodmagic at all?" Before Draco could answer, Asmodeus shook his head, gesticulating impatiently with his still raised fork. "Even Telarius describes the difference between black and white bloodmagic, and so do quite a few other volumes in your room. For your information, you are quite safe from me for the foreseeable future. It's Daray you should worry about, but not because of bloodmagic."

Still shaking slightly, Draco didn't go back to eating until he was certain Asmodeus wasn't going to attack him. Not wanting to annoy the man any further, he kept silent about all the questions still racing in his brain. Perhaps he shouldn't have skipped those chapters after all. But ever since … the Dark Lord, he'd had an unreasonable fear of anything concerning blood, and just the thought of reading about bloodmagic sent pearls of sweat onto his forehead.

They finished the rest of their meal in silence, with Draco excusing himself as quickly as possible. Since the vampire had gone somewhere else – at least nowhere in the immediate vicinity, Draco was free to retreat to his room. He had quite a bit to think about. And maybe a book to read.


	6. Day 5

**Day 5**

Draco was once again sitting on the rug in front of the couch, with the vampire reading a newspaper behind him. Draco had a small volume about bloodmagic opened in front of him, finally having found the courage to read deeper into the subject after Asmodeus' little speech yesterday.

To his surprise, the brief overview in the Compendium of Magicks had turned out to be far less dark than he had assumed. Sure, there was a lot of blood and pain involved, but not necessarily others' blood and pain. And as long as nobody else was involved, Draco thought, it wasn't that bad. He could even appreciate the artistry of linking all those runes together to intrinsically change the properties of something.

Of course, even though he was fascinated with the theoretical principles that were explained in a very interesting way in the book in front of him, he wasn't insane enough to try his own hand at it. First off, the risk of something going wrong was far too high in his opinion. Secondly, he liked his life as pain- and bloodless as possible, thank you very much, and thirdly, bloodmagic was a long-term project. From what he had read, having one or two stage one rituals was hardly worth the effort if one didn't continue to higher levels, and that could take years.

No, Draco rather stuck to potions, charms and transfigurations. That was much quicker, less painful, more easily reversible, and much less dangerous.

Still, reading about bloodmagic was … intriguing. He never would have thought about some of the ideas that went into the theory. But somehow, he couldn't concentrate on it today. He could feel it in his bones that there was something wrong, and this feeling had been with him for several hours.

It had started with breakfast, when Asmodeus hadn't been up yet. That in itself had been very unusual; normally, the sorcerer got up so early that he'd already finished with breakfast before Draco even woke up. The vampire had fed on him, as usual, but ever since, there had been a strange, restless energy hovering around him that made Draco fidget anxiously. And the vampire hadn't let him out of sight, insisting that Draco stayed right next to him besides the couch.

Asmodeus still hadn't come down.

The vampire was reading his newspaper in a language Draco didn't understand but thought it was Spanish. Every time the vampire turned a page, Draco almost flinched from the sudden noise, losing the place in his own book. He thought he had read the same page three times already, but he still didn't know what was written there.

Suddenly, there was another strange energy rising, coming from above. It felt mad with agony, completely lost in pain. It grew in strength, making Draco shiver down to his bones until with a sudden electric discharge, it disappeared completely. Panting slightly from the unnerving sensation, Draco looked up at the vampire to see if he had felt the second energy surge, and the vampire was looking intently at the door to the sitting room.

A few minutes later, Asmodeus came in, looking quite exhausted. Draco inhaled sharply, wondering what was responsible for his pitiful state. Beneath his somewhat groomed exterior, Asmodeus seemed tired and shaken, but still trying to hide it. Had the energy surge earlier come from him?

Asmodeus was quite pale, digging his fingers into the doorframe as if it was all that was holding him up.

"Some supporters of Voldemort attacked the Master of Paris last evening," the vampire said in lieu of a greeting.

Draco watched how Asmodeus slumped even further against the doorframe, not quite sure whether in relief or exhaustion. Mariah had told Draco some about the most basic vampire politics, and Draco knew that attacking a Master in his own territory was akin to a declaration of war. Asmodeus' relief made absolutely no sense.

"And?" Asmodeus asked. Draco wondered why Asmodeus seemed to relax more and more. Didn't he also feel the strange energy inside the room?

"He's built a new law of his own," the vampire replied. "Crimes against vampires fall under vampire law. Apparently, a vampire died – a legally existing vampire, that is. All the attackers captured – that's four wizards – will be providing a steady source of blood for his vampires."

Draco shivered. He doubted that those four wizards would be treated as well as he was. Mariah had shown him her dungeons, telling him that they had been unused for several decades, but that they were for keeping live blood-fodder. Not slaves, but those that had committed crimes against her and whose blood shouldn't be wasted by spilling. They had reminded Draco far too much of his own living conditions under the Dark Lord's care, scaring him out of his wits.

Asmodeus groaned. "Aw crap. Public outrage amongst mortals will start as soon as the paper arrives."

Yes, with the way things were going in Europe, this was bound to stir big circles. How could vampires be allowed to make their own laws? If left unchecked, what were vampires going to do next? Enslave or turn every mortal they could find? Make it mandatory for everyone to become donors? Draco shuddered at that thought, but Asmodeus seemed to be more disturbed at the potential of mortals rebelling. Didn't he think of scenarios like the one Draco had just imagined, or did he know that he'd be protected by strong vampires in such a case? Would Asmodeus even mind if vampires took over the law?

Slowly, Asmodeus began to regain color and changed the subject. "Did you figure out the problem with your next ritual?"

Draco listened up. Were they talking about bloodmagic?

"Progress, but not fixed," the vampire sighed. From what Draco had already read in his book, designing rituals could be hideously complex. He had been very relieved to discover that a whole branch of blood magic relied on one's own pain and blood, making it somewhat more acceptable for Draco than the Dark Lord's tendency to torture and sacrifice whatever victim he could get his hands on.

The vampire picked up a few papers from the couch table that had been just out of Draco's line of sight. Were they the design for the ritual? He curiously watched the vampire hand them over to Asmodeus, who was studying them intently, commenting absently.

"You know, I've been thinking all you might really need is a different knife. I know you've tried everything in the Akren bloodmagic armory and just about everything your family has, perhaps it's time to look further."

From what he had read in the Compendium of Magicks, Akren set the standards for bloodmagic and several other obscure branches of magic. And, since he hadn't known what Akren was, he had looked it up in one of his the other books he had been given. To say that he had been surprised would have been an understatement. A whole school where almost nothing was taboo, which was more vicious than Durmstrang, and which allowed _all_ species to attend? A _school_ that was geared almost solely to combat, violence, and survival, but nonetheless brought forth standards that were unbelievably high also in non-combatative disciplines?

Why hadn't he ever heard of such a school? Not that he wanted to go there – having classes with vampires and werewolves and whatever other creatures there were around would be horrifying – but that it hadn't ever been mentioned?

Judging by the comment about the Akren bloodmagic armory, Draco was almost certain that both Asmodeus and the vampire were Akren students. He was quite certain that nobody from the outside was allowed into the school, which in turn would mean that both of them were the toughest of the tough. But surely, at their age, they couldn't be more than students, could they?

He thought back to the fight between Asmodeus and the winged creature a few days ago. He shivered. If that was the level of skill a mere _student_ displayed, he could easily believe that anybody graduating could only be the best.

And the most ruthless, both towards others and themselves.

Some of the rituals Draco had read about actually turned his stomach; he couldn't understand how anybody could keep injuring themselves so deliberately. Draco thought he would go insane if he had to cut precise runes into his skin for eight hours or more. He especially couldn't understand how the two could go on discussing knives so calmly when there always was the knowledge that they'd actually have to use them on their own skin.

"What I need is a blade that will channel the magic it takes in through my veins," the vampire complained.

Asmodeus shrugged his shoulders. "Electricity could be channeled through your blood, and if directed by magic could cover the whole body and finish binding the magic together."

Draco barely suppressed a shudder at the thought of what that had to feel like. He looked up just in time to catch the vampire's disbelieving expression, which morphed into exaggerated pity. "Rahkesh, I hate to disillusion you, but electrocution doesn't solve all of life's problems."

Draco silently had to agree with the vampire; he had found out that Asmodeus was _very_ fond of lightening spells, using them as often as possible. And the vampire had been on the receiving end of them more than once. Considering his affinity for electricity, Draco sometimes wondered if Asmodeus wasn't an elemental, creatures that he had only heard about but never found any real descriptions of.

"It can, if you just allow it to," Asmodeus replied, almost sulkily. Draco took care not to laugh out loud; as nice as Asmodeus usually was, Draco didn't want to find out whether he would use his electricity on a mortal, too.

"Uh huh, Thunder, whatever. You'd love to see me fry myself, wouldn't you?"

Asmodeus growled. "Thunder?"

Draco more felt than saw the vampire shrug. "Ally brought it up again."

From other conversations he had overheard, Draco was quite sure that Ally was female, and a close friend to them. Probably another Akren student. How did women survive in Akren? If it was as ruthless as he had read, they should be the first to be weeded out because of inferior physical strength. But then, Draco had to admit, the general human population should have quite a hard time surviving there, too, since both vampires and werewolves were a lot stronger than them. How did anyone survive there?

"I'll kill her."

"She'll skin you, then disembowel you with her fingernails, tear your eyes out, and make you eat them."

Draco grimaced at that vivid image. He hadn't found out yet whether Ally was human or not. But from the sound of it, she probably was a vampire, or an equally violent species. They took disproportionate pleasure in killing humans – as slowly and as painfully as possible. Shuddering slightly, he forcibly repressed his memories of his own tortures.

Well, that could be one way of survival – excessive violence and taking one's opponent by surprise. Draco would bet quite a bit that anybody surviving Akren would be as paranoid as Madeye Moody.

Preoccupied with his own thoughts, Draco didn't quite hear the next few phrases, only catching Rahkesh's curses again.

"De-fang you! And it _doesn't_ suit me."

"They'd just grow back, and it certainly does suit you, perfectly, oh thunderbird. Grandmother liked it, and so did Namach, and no trying to intimidate Silas out of it this time."

Vampires' teeth grew back? And he'd heard of Silas, too. Another vampire?

"What the fuck? It's a conspiracy!" Asmodeus growled angrily, and as if to prove that his earlier claims of not being obsessed were incorrect, he sent a bolt of lightening at the vampire.

Draco hastily ducked in order to not get hit, seeing that the lightening reflected off some kind of shield around the vampire, who was cackling madly. Luckily it didn't go anywhere near him, because Draco was sure it would have hurt quite a bit. So far, he had gotten off without being fried, and he wanted to keep it that way.

Draco stared after Asmodeus who had stalked off towards the kitchen, probably to get himself some breakfast – or, rather, early lunch judging by the time. The vampire was still chuckling while reclining back onto the couch, taking up the newspaper once again. "That, my dear slave," he commented, highly self-satisfied, "is how you take revenge."

For about the thirtieth time since he had been brought to that cottage, Draco wondered if anyone in here was actually sane. And since when did vampires have grandmothers?

__________

Sitting on his bed in his room, Draco looked up from his volume on bloodmagic which he had spent his afternoon with. Despite being quite thoroughly put off by the idea of _carving_ runes into his _skin_, he somehow couldn't help his morbid curiosity. He didn't know why, but it sounded _interesting_ in the same way that he liked reading about really dark spells. Pure genius to come up with all those ideas and runic patterns, but pure insanity to actually implement them. One of the first warnings in the book had been that almost fifty percent of all aspiring Blood Mages managed to kill themselves with some kind of ritual.

But hadn't he just heard the front door of the cottage open? They had left after lunch, telling him to behave himself. Asmodeus hadn't added the 'or else', but it had been clear in the vampire's gaze. It was already dark, so had they finally come back after leaving him alone for more than ten hours already? Or was it someone else?

And he didn't have his wand or any other way to defend himself.

On the other hand, an intruder wouldn't have made a noise that could be heard up to the third floor.

Cautiously, he snuck out of his room to the staircase, trying to see who had come in. Downstairs was illuminated brightly, and he could hear voices. After a brief moment, he recognized both Asmodeus and the vampire talking to each other, but he couldn't make out what they were saying.

What had they been doing the whole day? And why had they left at different hours?

Asmodeus had left right after his breakfast-lunch, still incensed about being called Thunder. The vampire had left some time in the afternoon, once again advising Draco to behave or else. It had been the first time that they had left Draco completely alone in the cottage.

Gathering his courage, he slipped down the stairs until he was able to make out words.

"You think … more around?" That was the vampire.

"… quite sure. … strange dream… morning." Asmodeus.

"So that's … reason … bad?"

"You're … right one to talk … projecting enough magic to … even Draco felt it."

"Didn't… see how nicely… he was?"

"… vampires… disgusting."

There was a lull in the conversation that Draco used to think about what he had just heard. Asmodeus had looked that bad in the morning because of a strange dream, which somehow was an indication whether more – something – was around.

Draco shivered, not wanting to imagine what could scare Asmodeus that badly. And what had Asmodeus meant by projecting enough magic that even Draco could feel it? Had the vampire been responsible for the oppressing presence in the sitting room that morning? Or was it something else? An object? And what did it mean that even he felt it? Did Asmodeus and the vampire always feel magical presences? That certainly would explain a lot…

And that also meant that they probably could detect Draco's presence on the stairs. He didn't think that spying on them made a good impression.

Biting his lip, he barely convinced himself not to run away, slowly making his way to the sitting room instead. Turning the doorknob, he chastised himself for being insane, but something made him carry on.

"Hm. I was wondering whether he'd actually have the courage to come in. Seems that I owe you one, Rahkesh."

Draco blushed at the vampire's comment, knowing for certain now that they could feel his presence. Hesitatingly, he made his way to the couch, sitting down in front of it without ever looking straight at Asmodeus or the Vampire.

"You see, he's not as broken as you thought," Asmodeus smirked.

"Oh, but I think that's where you're wrong," the vampire purred, "it's a good slave's duty to feel their master's need and come to provide."

Draco's blush quickly faded into paleness that could have rivaled the vampire's. That was definitely not why he had come inside. And hadn't the vampire already fed on him twice today? Granted, the second time had been very short, but the vampire had never fed on him more often before. Was there a reason he needed to?

The expected cool hand on his neck still came like a shock, but he managed to restrain himself to merely flinching. Thankfully the vampire didn't punish him, letting the obscuring haze of relaxation take all pain away. He felt quite faint when the vampire finally finished, meaning that the vampire had drunk a lot. Which meant, in turn, that the vampire _had_ needed the third feeding.

What in the world had happened this afternoon?

A human hand with a vial of blood replenisher appeared in front of Draco's face without comment, and he accepted it thankfully. His involuntary eye contact with Asmodeus almost made him forget the potion though. Asmodeus looked bad. Really bad. The 'I'm suppressing a headache the size of Hogwarts' bad, combined with the 'I've just been through a magical wringer and still am not sure whether I all my limbs have been reattached in their original positions' bad. Even the bat that was hanging from the chandelier seemed exhausted.

Where had they been to get that roughed up?

Finally, Asmodeus sighed and heaved himself out of the armchair. "I'm going to my room; my mindmagics are still somewhat ripped apart from trying to contact you. If it doesn't become better by tomorrow, I might have to visit Akren for some time. And, please, Daray, don't do anything tonight. I'm too tired to pick up the pieces should everything fall apart. Good night."

Draco automatically replied in kind, while his thoughts were in a whirlwind. Something had happened that had forced Asmodeus, who apparently was also practicing mindmagic, to contact the vampire. Draco almost sighed. Something else he'd have to look up – he had no idea what exactly mindmagic was, its limitations, and how difficult it was. But he would bet everything he had that it was the reason Asmodeus had a headache.

And by getting up, Asmodeus had also revealed that he must have some recently healed physical injuries which were still tender. Draco didn't want to think about how severe they were compared to the fight with the strange creature. Asmodeus hadn't shown any sign of exhaustion then. Just what the hell had happened this afternoon?

"Don't worry, my little Happymeal," the vampire purred right into Draco's ear, looking after Asmodeus' retreating form over Draco's shoulder. "He has survived worse. Much worse."

Draco shivered, actually believing the vampire. And only now did he become aware of the fact that he was alone with the vampire, it was evening, and the vampire was already purring into his ear…

"Well, you are lucky tonight, my tasty, little slave, since Rahkesh has asked me so nicely, I won't have my wicked, wicked way with you." Draco's shivers grew more pronounced at the almost whispered promise. When the vampire drew back without doing anything, Draco thanked every god he could think of. "How about a nicely invigorating chess match?"

Without waiting for an answer, the vampire conjured the same chess set they had been using every evening now, and once again moved his black pawn.

Draco took a deep breath and settled on the other side of the small couch table, already trying to plan out as many strategies as possible to defeat the vampire. Tonight though, the vampire seemed distracted, more often than once not taking advantage of weaknesses in Draco's play. After two and a half hours, Draco was closer to winning than ever before, when the vampire finally managed to corner him in a check mate.

The vampire gave him a long look, and Draco grew more and more nervous. It was finally coming back to Draco that this was a vampire, and not just a chess opponent. He could see how something moved behind the vampire's eyes, looking at him with a predatory gaze that didn't promise anything good at all.

In the end, the vampire merely nodded. "You may go to your room."

Draco didn't hesitate and fled. Swallowing thickly, he tried not to think of how close to being raped he had gotten today.

**

* * *

A/N:** Thanks for all the encouragement. To address a few things I've been asked:

- I will keep it completely in line with Miranda Flairgold's storyline. That means that Draco won't find out Daray's a demon, Harry/Rahkesh won't reveal his identity to Draco, and Draco won't find out on his own.

- I've asked her permission to post this story, but that's all the contact I've had with Miranda Flairgold. Asking me to tell her to update won't help you any more than asking her that yourself…

- mountainelements pointed out a mistake in Day 0: In CiaToW, Daray observes Draco through the window after he's sent outside by Mariah. I merely sent Draco out into the hallway, where Daray rightfully shouldn't have been able to observe him. Sorry about that.

Sakiku

P.S.: mountainelements pointed out another mistake in this chapter - fixed as of 11/19/08


	7. Day 7

**Day 7**

Trembling from an especially vivid nightmare, Draco splashed cold water into his face. He hated remembering the things that had happened to him, shaking him to his core every time he relived them in his dreams. Even the pain felt real, and the terror stayed long minutes after waking up.

Finally he couldn't bear the silence of his room anymore, slowly making his way downstairs although there probably was the vampire waiting for him. But even the vampire couldn't do worse to him than those in his dreams had done. And if Asmodeus was there, he'd probably keep the vampire mostly in check.

Standing at the foot of the stairs, Draco heard voices from the sitting room. He could identify Asmodeus and the vampire, but there was a third male voice with them that he didn't recognize. Wondering a little bit, Draco decided that it would be safer to not disturb them; it was the first time since Draco's arrival that Asmodeus entertained guests. And that at an ungodly hour in the morning – the sun had barely cleared the horizon.

Quiet as a wraith, he turned around to head upstairs again, maybe retreat to the library, but Asmodeus' voice called him back. "Draco. Come in, please."

Ah. He had forgotten. Draco was quite sure he hadn't made a sound, and the conversation inside surely was loud enough to cover his breathing. But two days ago, they had more or less confirmed that they could sense magic from quite far away, and he should have known that they felt his presence. Just how much of their magic did they have to dedicate to continually being so aware of their surroundings?

Hesitatingly, he opened the door to the sitting room, taking in the vampire sprawled on the couch, Asmodeus standing next to the fireplace, and a blond stranger seated in an armchair. And a black panther curled up on the couch next to the vampire.

"Draco, this is Silas, Daray's cousin, and his familiar Nuri."

Draco looked closer at the stranger, barely suppressing his shudder in time. The blond was a vampire, too, same age as Asmodeus and the black-haired vampire. At least the blond didn't look as forbidding as Daray. The panther, on the other hand, scared him with its intense focus, but fortunately it stayed where it was, seated regally on the couch.

Asmodeus continued. "I talked to Mariah, and she said she's a bit too busy at the moment to take you back. You'll stay here for the next few days, until she's got a bit more time. I'll give you another vial of that potion tonight; you should have had the last dose this morning."

Draco nodded, uncomfortably aware that he was on more or less a vacation right now, and that he would have to go back eventually. He didn't really want to think about that.

For a moment, Asmodeus looked a bit preoccupied, either communicating with someone or thinking about what else Draco was supposed to know. After a few seconds, he focused back on Draco with a conspiratory smirk. "Right. Since I'll probably be away the whole day, Silas is going to practice some spells with you. And remember: should they get too pushy, the threat of castration spells works wonders with vampires. Have fun today."

With those parting words, Asmodeus stalked out of the room, leaving Draco to stare after him, hearing the two vampires growl slightly behind him. Slowly, Draco turned back towards them. Seeing how they were focused on him, he hastily excused himself in favor of the kitchen.

To his huge relief, the blond one just nodded, and he hurriedly scrambled out of the room. He could hear the two vampires striking up a conversation once again, but couldn't make out their words.

_Two_ bloody vampires. That was just what he needed. Well, the last few days had been too good to be true, almost _normal_. He had helped with a few more potions, read a lot, learned how to make a half-way decent meal from the vegetables he had been given, and even begun to like Asmodeus' caustic bantering with the vampire. True, most of the time he didn't completely understand what the two were talking about, but those short interludes that inevitably turned into flung knives or wandless curses had somehow turned into a highlight of the day.

Not that Draco would ever tell them, especially not the vampire. Asmodeus might understand, but the vampire would dismember him if he even thought that Draco was anything less than terrified of him. And most of the time, Draco _was_ terrified of the vampire. It was just, well, Asmodeus somehow managed to take away a lot of the vampire's terrifying aura when the two of them were in the middle of one of their daily spats.

But _two_ vampires and _no_ Asmodeus – he was getting out as soon as possible.

Quickly preparing a few vegetables (by now, he was almost used to the obnoxious taste of celery and lentils first thing in the morning), he wolfed down his breakfast, not keen on spending any more time than absolutely necessary in close proximity to two vampires, especially when Asmodeus wasn't there to reign them in.

Just when he had cleaned his plate and the pots in the sink, he became aware of the blond vampire lounging against the doorframe to the hallway.

"Here."

Draco froze and looked at the second vampire's outstretched hand. He was holding a wand. Looking disbelievingly back at the vampire – Silas? – Draco caught him smirking. What did he want?

"Take it. Like Rahkesh has already told you, we're going to practice some curses today. Daray's got some other things to do, so it will only be the two of us. I don't know where Mariah got it from, but I think this wand is yours."

Eyes widening, Draco's gaze snapped down to the wand. Cautiously, he made his way closer to the vampire. Yes, it was the same color as his old one, and there were some scratches he recognized…

Hesitatingly, he let his hand hover over the wood, biting his lip anxiously. Was that just another ploy to humiliate him? The blond vampire didn't move, neither away nor towards Draco, so he pulled up all his courage and closed his fingers around the wood. Immediately, the warm, tingly feeling of magic shot through his veins. His breath caught in his throat, and he had to fight not to close his eyes in bliss. When he wanted to examine his wand closer, to once again familiarize himself with it, the vampire didn't release it.

Holding his breath, Draco looked back at the vampire, who was watching him intently. "You are not to use your wand to try and flee, gain access to locked doors, or attack anybody outside the sparring room. You don't want to make us angry, do you?"

After seeing what Asmodeus was capable of? Draco frantically shook his head, and the vampire nodded. "Good. Now, let's see what you can do. Follow me."

Finally, the blond vampire released Draco's wand, and he cradled it to his chest in wonder. He almost forgot the vampire's order over the blissful feeling of once again being connected with his magic.

The vampire clearing his throat from the hallway sent him scrambling outside, trying to catch up with the other. Still in wonder over the sudden turn of events, Draco followed the vampire downstairs, and through the left door that always had been locked. He noticed how the vampire seemed very familiar with the cottage, never hesitating in the slightest. Apparently, he was a frequent enough visitor to know his way around. How could Asmodeus live with two vampires?

The room behind the door was huge and completely bare. It was at least 90 by 150 feet wide, with a 15 foot ceiling. Apparently, it stretched underneath the whole cottage, probably enhanced by enlargening charms. The walls and the floor consisted of roughly-hewn stones, and several floating orbs of… something lit the room as bright as daylight.

Without warning, Draco felt his legs begin a quickstep, the movement completely involuntary on his part. Alarmed, he almost forgot that he had his wand back, but he finally remembered that he was able to cast magic again. _Finite Incantatem_ finished the spell, but the next moment, he felt the uncontrollable urge to laugh. He hadn't seen any spell hit him, and the vampire hadn't said anything or done any wand movements. Such kind of casting required enormous skill; less than a quarter of the Dark Lord's servants could cast silently, and not even all of the Inner Circle could cast invisibly. He knew his father couldn't.

This time, he quickly cast a shield before canceling the _Rictusempra_, and indeed, the next moment his shield lit up brightly, forced to absorb quite a bit of power. Two more spells in frighteningly quick succession easily shattered his protection, catching him with the backlash. Once again, he found himself dancing uncontrollably, barely getting enough air because he was laughing so hard.

His wand jumped out of his hand and flew towards the vampire, and the spells on Draco vanished. When he had his breath back, the vampire merely nodded and tossed him his wand back.

This time, Draco was a bit more prepared and immediately cast several shielding spells. The vampire's casting got stronger in response, leaving trails of warped air in their wake. At least now, Draco could pinpoint their location somewhat, evading them whenever possible. The vampire had an unbelievably quick casting rate, but still each and every one of his spells rang like a gong across Draco's shields.

Finally, a triple combination of almost simultaneously cast hexes broke through the shields, and before he could react, he was flung backwards with his wand sailing towards the vampire. Landing heavily on his back, Draco froze when the vampire suddenly appeared next to him, once again holding out Draco's wand.

"Do you honestly want to tell me that is all you are capable of?"

Draco stared at him completely perplexed, not even reaching for his offered wand. The vampire rolled his eyes and dropped the wand next to Draco. "I haven't come in here for you to be my spell target." He hasn't? "You are to defend yourself properly, and attack back. I want to see what you are capable of."

The vampire retreated a few steps, giving Draco enough room to scramble to his feet and take up his wand once again.

"What are you waiting for," the vampire taunted, "show me those Dark curses your ministry has banned!"

Almost on instinct, Draco waved his wand and shouted _Sectumsempra_, more than a little bit surprised when he actually saw the spell's characteristic light erupt from the tip of his wand. Apparently, the spell was easier to cast than he had thought, explaining how Potter had gotten it right on his first try in the bathroom. He knew he was going to hit the vampire, probably making him angry despite his reassurances, and then the vampire would…

The vampire easily stepped aside, grinning smugly at Draco when the spell harmlessly whistled by an inch above his shoulder. Feeling a little bit stupid, Draco sent a second and a third _Sectumsempra_ after the vampire, which were easily sidestepped as well. The widening smirk on the vampire's face was the only warning he got, and Draco immediately raised several different shields, just in time to feel various high-power spells splash against them.

Sending back a moderately illegal blood freezing curse, a quite illegal concussion hex, and a not-quite-dark bonebreaker, he almost got hit by another wave of spells, barely made visible by the surrounding distortion of air.

Those were fast!

Quickly jumping to the side, he had his hands full trying to keep his shields erect through the onslaught, too busy to think about retaliation. One spell that he evaded with bare inches to spare apparently had a magical backlash that inflicted several shallow cuts on his skin. Grimacing a little, Draco tried to get more distance between himself and the vampire, completely on the defensive by now.

A few more inhumanly strong hexes against his shields vibrated deeply into his bones, and then the world exploded.

When he woke again, the first thing he felt was pain, and a slightly amused voice talking. "No, Nuri, he isn't dead yet. Just a little bit concussed."

Carefully, Draco opened his eyes – only to stare into the eyes of a very, very big cat. A panther, his mind supplied after a few moments. The vampire's pet. How had it come into the room?

Freezing in place, he let the panther study him, trying not to cry out in pain when the panther placed a paw on his face. Blinding needles of pain shot through his skull while he felt the panther sniff his hair and sneeze a few times. Still, he didn't dare move an inch.

"Nuri! Get off him, he has a concussion!"

Dimly, he felt the panther being dragged off him, but he was too busy gasping through tears of pain. "You know that he doesn't have any healing powers, so you can't step on him when he's injured!"

He heard the big animal whine. "Yes, you can do that with Daray or me, but not any human." Another whiny growl. "Okay, maybe Rahkesh, too, but he's the exception. Now go back to your corner and wait for me. I don't want you to get caught in any spells."

Not do that with any human? Suddenly, his memories returned all at once, making him bite his lip in terror. He had been dueling with a vampire of all things, and the vampire had beaten him badly, and now…

His involuntary flinch brought another wave of blinding pain, making him gasp in agony.

"Do you know any healing spells?"

Draco opened his eyes, which he hadn't realized he had closed, looking up at the blond vampire kneeling next to him. Shivering from both pain and fright, he couldn't do a thing but stare at those inhumanly waxen features and the strange eyes.

The vampire sighed and pointed his wand at Draco. Before he could react, he had already been spelled, resulting in his head almost exploding again from agony.

Slowly, very slowly, the pain abated until, to his surprise, it hardly hurt anymore. Instead, he finally took notice of all those little complaints the rest of his body sent to him.

"Well, now that I have healed your concussion, do you remember any healing spells for the rest?"

Carefully, Draco levered himself onto his elbows to check what 'the rest' consisted of. The shallow cuts he had received earlier were still bleeding sluggishly, so maybe they hadn't been that shallow after all. Otherwise, he had a few burns, especially on his hands, and a few bruises. "Y-yes," he nodded shakily.

Gathering his wand again, he cast a few healing spells on himself, breathing in relief when his pain abated.

Thinking back to the duel he had witnessed almost a week ago, his respect for Asmodeus raised another notch. Asmodeus had kept on fighting with his broken arm, healing all his cuts and bruises even before having the rest of his quite a bit more severe injuries dealt with.

A hand appeared in front of his eyes. Hesitantly, he looked at its owner. The vampire.

He was looking at Draco, not moving an inch. Draco looked back at the hand and timidly grasped it, shuddering at the inhuman coolness. The vampire nodded at him briefly, pulling him to his feet effortlessly. "That was better. Now let's try again."

____

Three hours later, Draco was sweaty, bloody, and dead on his feet. Panting from exhaustion, he once again picked himself up from the floor, swaying unsteadily. Those three hours had consisted of repeatedly being thrown across the room, injured and healed again, but somehow he felt better than he had in weeks. He had managed to land a select few curses, singeing the vampire somewhat, and on one occasion even breaking his leg.

That hadn't deterred the vampire in the least though, displaying incredible pain tolerance and healing powers far beyond what Draco had thought vampires capable of. Within seconds, the fracture was healed again, without any sign of the injury left behind. The vampire had used Draco's fright at having actually landed a hit to quickly incapacitate Draco, but he hadn't retaliated beyond that.

Since they had come into the sparring room, the vampire hadn't threatened to go after his blood at all, making Draco relax slowly. He was even starting to have some fun, much to his surprise.

"I'd say that's enough for now," the vampire commented after looking critically at Draco.

Since Draco didn't trust the vampire, he kept up his guard. But apparently, the offer was genuine. The vampire was in a non-threatening stance, as fresh and immaculate as ever, whereas Draco was far beyond tired and exhausted. And it wasn't even noon yet.

Moving towards the door, the vampire expectantly held it open. The panther, which Draco had forgotten about almost completely, jumped up from its corner and padded towards the vampire, rubbing its head against his thigh. Both of them were staring at Draco expectantly, and he reluctantly walked towards them, watching for any signs of attack. Neither made any move, and he hastily slipped by them, not wanting to have them at his back for too long.

Only afterwards did he realize that they hadn't taken his wand from him. Quickly, he tucked it into one of his pockets, hoping against hope that they would forget it.

Back in the kitchen, he immediately drank a tall glass of water, very thirsty from his first real exercise in months. He didn't count being used as spell target as practice, and the housework in her mansion hadn't been too physically demanding.

Both the vampire and the big cat entered he room behind him, giving his pocket with the wand a knowing glance, but not demanding it back. Instead, the vampire smirked and started making lunch. To Draco's surprise, he never once attempted to add blood or any other disgusting things like the other vampire had, or try to bite his neck.

Since he had used up all his strength in the fight, Draco didn't have enough power left to be properly afraid anymore, merely sinking into the next chair. Finally those long nights of nightmares and those long days of fear caught up to him, pushing him into total exhaustion, mentally as well as physically. He mindlessly watched the vampire, his brain in a state where, if asked, he couldn't tell what he had been thinking – or if he was thinking at all.

He shrank up from his musings when a somewhat appetizing looking plate with green beans and asparagus was placed before him. "Eat up, you will need it."

Shuddering slightly, more from exhaustion than from fear of what the afternoon was going to be like, he tiredly started on his food, not even tasting it properly. Shaking himself slightly, he tried to prevent his head from nodding forwards, not able to keep his eyes open and focused. From what he had seen, the vampire hadn't added anything to his food, but he was so tired…

Not even the sharp bolt of fear when a cold hand grabbed his shoulder to keep him from face-planting right into his dinner could wake him up completely. He was almost asleep when he felt a set of fangs at his neck. Brief terror shot through him, but the immediate relaxation of being fed on lulled him completely to sleep. He never felt the vampire shake his head at Draco and levitate him to his room.

_______________

Something heavy pouncing on his bed woke him, and Draco jumped up in fright even before realizing just what it was. Seeing a panther staring back at him from very close proximity was enough to get anybody out of bed, and with a small scream, he backed against the wall.

From its place on top of Draco's covers, the panther merely looked at him regally, turned around three times, and then settled down, apparently going to sleep. Staring incredulously at the animal that had just managed to evict him from his own bed, Draco finally realized that the door to his room was open, and that the blond vampire was standing outside, convulsing in silent laughter.

Somewhat irritated at having his first really restful sleep in weeks interrupted, Draco barely managed not to frown at either vampire or cat. Looking down on himself, Draco saw that he was still clad in his sweaty clothes from his morning exercise, wrinkled beyond help. The rest of his memory came back with a rush, and he found that he couldn't remember how he had gotten back into his room. Had the vampire really…?

Watching the panther warily from the corner of his eye, he saw that the vampire still hadn't made a move to come inside. That calmed him considerably, but he was curious as to why. He didn't think the vampire held much respect for his privacy.

Apparently feeling Draco's stare, the vampire straightened and looked back at Draco, shrugging his shoulders. "Well, if Asmodeus hadn't placed some of his hellish electric anti-vampire wards around your door, I would have come inside to wake you up myself. Now you get to put up with Nuri, and he really likes your bed, I can tell. Don't worry, he's really cuddly harmless."

That prompted the panther to hiss from the bed, and Draco had his doubts that the big animal was 'cuddly harmless'. Maybe to a vampire, but definitely not to him.

"Well, get dressed, you can't sleep the day away. Nuri, leave the poor mortal alone, I think you frighten him."

The panther didn't even raise its head, not making any efforts to get up from Draco's bed. The tip of its tail twitched a little, but otherwise only its ears told that it was awake. The vampire barked a laugh. "If you think so. I'm waiting in the sparring room, you have fifteen minutes to make yourself presentable."

With those words, the vampire waved his hand and shut the door wandlessly, never once coming close enough to actually touch it. This left Draco alone with the panther, which was still ignoring him.

Retreating into his bathroom with another set of clothes, Draco hastily stripped out of his wrinkled ones and showered quickly. Now, he really felt the exercise of this morning, his muscles very sore and stiff. The warm water helped a little, but not enough to chase away all the aches.

Grabbing for a towel, Draco almost slipped in the shower in surprise. The panther was staring back at him once again, somehow having managed to get inside the bathroom unnoticed. Draco shot a brief glance at the door – it was open. Hadn't he closed it after him?

Very slowly as to not startle the big animal, he got the towel and dried himself off, always keeping an eye on the panther. It seemed intent on exploring the corners of the bathroom, even putting its front paws onto the sink to look into the mirror.

Moving towards his fresh clothes, he almost immediately jumped back again when the panther pounced on them, batting them away from Draco with one of its big forepaws. Then, the panther proceeded to bury its nose in the freshly cleaned items, sniffing at them contently. Left only with his old, smelly robes, Draco finally remembered that he still had his wand in his pocket.

Searching the robes, he became aware that the panther was watching his every move intently, dangerously still and tense. Draco extracted the wand very slowly, taking care to never aim it in the direction of the animal, which had become even tenser at the sight of his wand. Did it know what wands meant?

A few cleaning, airing, and pressing spells later, his robes were almost as good as new, and as soon as he set the wand down, the panther relaxed again, going back to sniffing his other set of robes. Exhaling in relief, Draco quickly got dressed, only then realizing just how uncomfortable he had been when facing the animal stark naked.

Pocketing his wand, he once again relished in the feeling of magic running through his fingers, the wand throbbing gently as soon as he touched it. To his surprise, the panther followed him attentively, bounding by him when he exited the bathroom, Draco's other pair of robes completely forgotten. Draco had to steady himself on the doorframe because the massive animal had easily pushed him aside in its haste.

The panther stopped in front of the door to the hallway, rose to its hind-paws, placed its front paws on the doorknob, and started walking backwards. As soon as the door was open far enough, the panther fell back down to all four and smugly sauntered out of Draco's room. Draco stared after it in surprise, astonished at the amount of intelligence the animal possessed. No wonder it had managed to come inside the bathroom; doors where it only had to lean its weight against had to be even easier than doors that opened inwards.

The pair of eyes in the hallway reflecting the light from Draco's room quickly spurred him back into action, cautiously exiting his room. The panther had already bounded towards the stairs, stopping once again to see if Draco was following. Smiling slightly, Draco decided that, despite its superior size and strength, the panther was decidedly less scary than the snake or the bat.

The panther apparently knew its way around the house, too, because it unfailingly led him towards the sparring room, once again opening the door with its weight. Suddenly it yowled and jumped back so quickly that it almost crashed into the other side of the hallway, its fur bristled, hissing and spitting.

"Sorry, Nuri, didn't think you'd be the one to come in first," a somewhat apologetic voice drawled from the sparring room. The black-haired vampire.

"That'll teach you not to booby-trap any doors in here," the dry answer came. "Come in, Nuri, you know Daray didn't mean it."

The blond vampire opened the door completely, inviting both Draco and the cat in. Although Draco had been waiting for it, he still yelped when something stung him in his bottom as soon as he passed the doorframe.

"See, Nuri," the blackhaired vampire purred from the other side of the sparring room, waving his wand lazily, "now you're not the only one anymore."

As an answer, the panther turned its back towards the vampire, flicking an ear haughtily, and moving to lick the paw that must have been stung earlier.

"Give it up, Daray," the blond vampire laughed, disturbingly close to Draco. "If you ever want to get in his good graces again, you'll have to share Rahkesh's couch with him."

"That is my couch!"

"Not according to Rahkesh."

"Possession is nine tenth of the law."

"Even if the remaining tenth wields lightening?"

Draco had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

"I've told Rahkesh time and again that electricity doesn't solve all of life's problems!"

"Well, with him, it apparently does, especially the problem of uninvited vampires on his couch."

The black-haired vampire smirked evilly. "But he's not here today, is he? So he can't complain about it. Come on, Nuri, I think it's time to permanently stake our claim on the couch!"

Together the vampire and the panther padded out of the room, and Draco couldn't decide which of them was moving more sleekly. It was clearly visible that both of them were predators, and since the black-haired vampire was always wearing black, he seemed like a big cat himself.

The door slamming shut behind them drew Draco out of his musings, focusing his attention back on the blond vampire still in the room. A shiver ran down his back at the sight of the feral grin.

"Let's see how much you have learned this morning."

Before Draco could even think of an answer, he was already dodging wildly, more concerned with staying alive than how much his already aching muscles were protesting. He was going to be so sore tomorrow…


	8. Day 9

**Day 9**

Draco gasped and sat up, trying not to let the memories follow him into his waking hours. He hated that, as soon as he fell asleep, he relived those weeks of terror again and again and again, no chance for respite. Panting harshly, he let himself flop back onto his bed, grimacing when he felt the cold sticky sweat of his night clothes. He was too exhausted to get up, but he didn't want to go to sleep either, since that only meant more nightmares.

For the past two days, Asmodeus and the two vampires had taken turns dueling him to exhaustion every day. Well, duel was a little bit too optimistic of an expression; to Draco it seemed more like an exercise in 'make-the-mortal-as-miserable-as-possible'. The vampires positively delighted in showing Draco just how inferior his fighting abilities were, slamming him into the ground as often as possible. And Asmodeus also gave him a lot more exercise than he had bargained for. All three of them were incredibly fast and strong, not only magically but physically, too.

To be honest, Draco had never really seen the need for physical exercise beyond flying. Almost every spell could be blocked with a shield, and those that couldn't be blocked with a shield could be intercepted with a summoned or conjured item. So why should he make the effort and dodge them?

Well, those last days certainly had shown him why. All of them were so fast and strong at casting that it had been virtually impossible to keep up a proper shield defense. Secondly, they liked to rush in and engage in close range combat, which Draco was worse than a novice at, according to the dark-haired vampire. And if his wand was constantly busy blocking, there was no way he could attack. That meant that he had quickly been forced to change his strategy to dodging as much as possible, blocking only the barest minimum, and keep them away by casting as many offensive spells as possible.

At first, his attacks had been half-hearted at best since he had been afraid of hurting them and subsequently being punished. But, to his surprise, the vampires had been the first ones to demand that he go all out. The blond, he could see, because Silas actually was almost nice besides the whole vampire-business. But the black-haired one?

Yesterday evening, he had asked Asmodeus who had merely laughed and commented that vampires liked a good fight almost as much as sex and blood. Draco must have looked somewhat skeptical because Asmodeus had added that, if Draco managed to hit the vampires, they deserved it.

Draco had been a bit offended at that comment, even if it was the complete truth. Even going full out, he managed to get in maybe one hit for every twenty he received, and he barely ever inflicted any real damage. And, compared to the fight between Asmodeus and the winged beast he had observed a week earlier, the three of them had to be holding back quite a bit.

He shuddered, thinking about just how much better they were than him.

Well, at least he was learning.

Finally, he dragged himself into the shower, moving very carefully as to not stress his aching muscles overly much.

Wincing a little bit, he carefully patted the towel over a place where he hadn't had enough energy to heal a bruise last night. He had become quite proficient with his healing spells over the last two days, if only from necessity. They refused to heal him beyond the most serious injuries, most of the time only showing him the spell once and then expecting him to reproduce it the next time. That way, Draco had learned three different bone-mending spells, a diagnostics charm, a spell for torn ligaments, and a stronger version of his general healing charm. He definitely knew that he did not want to learn another bone-mending spell; every time he had gotten it wrong, the blond vampire had had to rebreak his leg. When he had finally managed to more or less heal his shin, he had passed out five times, and was so sick to his stomach that he hadn't even had the strength to retch.

Then, again, the cruciatus curse had hurt worse.

But not by much.

When he exited the bathroom with once again dry clothes, it was at least not completely dark anymore. Waving his wand for a quick tempus spell, he saw that it already was half past five in the morning. That meant that he had slept for more than six hours. That had to be a new record for him; apparently, the grueling training sessions exhausted him sufficiently to grant him at least a minimum of sleep. But not enough for him to feel refreshed. Never. The nightmares made sure of that.

Sighing wearily, he decided that, if he didn't want to heal all his injuries with spells today, he should better see if he was allowed to make some potions. Ever since he had helped Asmodeus with the Aescolapius solution, he had been allowed into the potions laboratory to make his own potions – as long as somebody was present and he told them what he was making. To his surprise, the vampires hadn't used that chance to torment him beyond their presence, letting him brew under their unnerving stare without comment. Sometimes, he even forgot them. When he had asked Asmodeus, the sorcerer had merely laughed and said that neither of them was overly fond of brewing healing or blood replenishing potions, and Draco went through a lot of them.

Reluctantly taking his daily mouthful of the lime green concoction, he shuddered through the familiar pain. During the first week, he had found out that the more he interacted with Asmodeus in a day, the worse the potion hurt. But yesterday, he had been given a new vial for the second week, which apparently also included the two vampires. The pain was much stronger, and took longer to abate.

Unclenching his death-grip around one of the torch holders, he congratulated himself on not falling to the floor. Wiping the sweat off his forehead, he took a deep breath to steel himself for the coming day. He had a feeling that it was not going to be a good one.

No matter how far he had come with thinking rationally about vampires in general, their presence triggered something inside him that made him freeze in terror. Especially the black haired one. Draco remembered his father telling him that Malfoys feared no one, but the two vampires were so much stronger and faster and powerful than him…

Suppressing a shiver, Draco made his way downstairs, not very surprised to find somebody already up despite the hour. Judging by the low light coming from the sitting room, it probably was one of the vampires. Asmodeus, too, could read in a light that was much too dim for Draco to see anything by, and he wondered how the man managed that. But this looked too dark even for Asmodeus. It was barely more than the lightening grey of dawn, nearly invisible in the glow from his wand.

Biting his lip, he cautiously knocked on the door, waiting to be admitted into the room. The black haired vampire had made it more than clear that he didn't appreciate Draco entering a room without announcing himself in some way. Draco's throat still throbbed from the memory.

"Enter," came a furious growl. The black haired vampire.

Swallowing heavily, Draco opened the door. There was some kind of completely white fire burning in the hearth without giving off any warmth and only minimal light. Draco's own lumos was much brighter, but still not enough to light the whole room. The vampire's skin seemed even paler than usual, and his black clothes melted right into the shadows. Long teeth were bared at Draco in a snarl, glittering wetly in the light. Like that, he looked truly undead.

Draco immediately froze, not wanting to anger the vampire any further.

"Oh, stuff it, Daray," a voice from behind Draco called jovially. Draco startled so badly that he almost lost his wand. Swiveling around, he recognized Asmodeus, together with his infernal snake wrapped around his neck and shoulders. The snake had its head raised, tongue flittering in Draco's direction, eyes reflecting his lumos. Asmodeus chuckled lightly, inordinately awake so early in the morning. How had he snuck up behind Draco without him noticing?

Asmodeus raised an eyebrow, his unnervingly gold, white, and black eyes even more eerie in the wandlight. "You're blocking the door."

"S-sorry." Blushing, Draco hastily moved the only direction that was available to him – backwards into the room. Asmodeus sauntered past him, igniting several torches and the chandelier with a careless wave of his hand. The vampire rounded on the man, apparently in a bad mood. Draco pressed himself against a wall to evade as much of the fallout as possible.

"Turn off the lights again!"

Completely unimpressed by the vampire's attitude, Asmodeus shot back. "Now, now, don't get your stale blood all heated up. It's morning already, so why shouldn't it be light?"

"Just because you got lucky with your little girlfriend last night doesn't give you a right to be so chipper today!" The vampire growled. Draco felt increasingly uncomfortable, not only because of the conversation that was rapidly heading into a direction he didn't want to know about, but also because of the pressure building in the room. He didn't want to be the target if it exploded.

"Just because you've been frustrated by your little ritual all night, you don't have to bite my head off."

"I'm not frustrated," the vampire growled menacingly. "I'm done, and that's all your fault, _Thunder_."

Draco didn't know what to make of that strange statement; apparently Asmodeus didn't either, judging by the curiously raised eyebrow. "How is it my fault that you're done?" Suddenly, the raised eyebrow turned into a smirk. "Oh, don't tell me – I was right and lightening was the missing element."

The growl vibrating through the room intensified. "Yes! See how your unnatural love for electricity has infected me? Do you think I'm fond of having a few thousand volts pouring through my veins while trying to cut clear runes?"

Draco didn't quite know what volts were, but they seemed to be something related to lightening. To his surprise he found that he had to agree with the vampire. During the eight days he had spent at the cottage so far, he had never made personal acquaintance with Asmodeus' love for lightening in all its form, but he had more than once only barely evaded bolts that had reflected from the vampire's shields. The few times they had come close enough to make the hairs on his arms and neck stand straight up had only reinforced that belief.

Asmodeus was cackling madly now. "Want to practice a little bit so that you can keep it up?"

"No!"

A black blur shot by Draco, startling him badly. The blur pounced on the vampire, who apparently was as surprised as Draco. A wandless shield repelled the attacker clear across the room, resulting in a strange cross between yowl and hiss. Only then did Draco recognize the panther.

"Don't do that, Nuri! You're lucky I didn't stick that into you!" The vampire held up a dagger for the big cat to see. Draco had never even seen the vampire draw the weapon. The panther didn't seem impressed, haughtily turning its back on the vampire.

Asmodeus wore a frown. "You didn't sense him?"

The vampire shook his head. Privately, Draco wondered just how aware those two usually were of their surroundings, if Asmodeus had indeed sensed the panther.

A new voice from the doorway intruded. "Then it's good that Sierra's said that Aunt Tashanna's ready today."

The blond vampire entered the room, and Draco was caught more or less in the middle. Pressing himself even further into the wall, he hoped that none of them would turn on him.

"They're done?" The black haired vampire suddenly broke off, going completely still. His eyes glazed over, and he stopped breathing. Cautiously looking around, Draco saw that both the blond vampire and Asmodeus looked somewhat out of it, too, only that Asmodeus' features also tightened slightly from time to time. Was someone contacting them? How far did vampiric telepathy reach? Should he use the opportunity and get out unnoticed?

Before Draco was completely done with his questions to himself, all three focused sharply on him.

"Change of plans. I don't want him getting into stuff he's not supposed to, but we can't take him with us, either. Any suggestions?" Asmodeus asked.

Draco nervously licked his lips at the gleam in the two vampires' eyes. Asmodeus rolled his own, adding "And no tying him to his or your bed!"

The black haired vampire mock-pouted, and Draco grew increasingly uncomfortable. Last time, Asmodeus had merely locked the rooms he wasn't allowed to enter, but apparently, with Draco's wand returned, things were a little bit different. Suddenly, all three of them grinned at him. Draco's very, very bad feeling was returning with a vengeance.

Twenty minutes later, that very, very bad feeling had turned into a very, very bad reality. First, the blond vampire had fed on him – he didn't know why the black-haired hadn't joined in; during the past days, they had more than once fed on him at the same time. Afterwards, they had escorted him into the sparring room, fetched enough food and water for him to last the day, and Asmodeus had summoned a few books on warding for him. Finally, they had left and warded the door from the outside, telling him that, if he got bored, he could try and use his books to break out.

At first, Draco had been utterly perplexed. What in the world was the meaning of locking someone in together with a step by step instruction on how to get out? Where was the trap?

He doubted that the wards would harm him in any way unless he did something spectacularly stupid, but it couldn't be that easy. Could it? Seeing how quickly the three had thrown together the wards, they shouldn't be too elaborate, either. So where was the trick?

Taking a deep breath, Draco started with all the ward detection and destruction tricks he already knew.

Half an hour later, he grudgingly had to adjust his opinion. None of the spells he had tried had worked. A few of them had made dents into the tightly woven strands of magic, but the wards had snapped back with a resiliency Draco hadn't seen before.

Sighing, Draco conjured himself a pillow and sat down against the wall with one of those books on warding. It was going to be a very, very long day.

______________

Frowning, he looked at the multicolored lines crossing the doorway and around it. They were tightly woven together, forming an impenetrable net.

It had taken him more than three hours just to find a spell that made all those magic strands visible, and he had a feeling that the worst was yet to come. The book had warned him that this was an easy short-cut to ward-breaking that should only be used in emergency as it was a pale substitute for feeling out the magic on one's own. Draco had tried that, too, but beyond a dim sense that something was there, he hadn't been able to use it at all. He'd have to fine-tune his magic sense a lot more to be helpful in such situations.

According to the books, professional wards were dismantled either by finding a spot that wasn't covered, overloading a weak point, or unmaking the ward. An interesting chapter in the warding book discussed a fourth method, disrupting the power source of the wards, but that was only possible as long as the source was accessible, not hidden behind the wards. And, to Draco's dismay, Asmodeus had done exactly that. He could see where the ward-lines sank into the stone – sadly on the other side of the door. So he had to apply a different method.

Since he couldn't detect any uncovered spots or weaknesses, he was stuck with unraveling, incidentally the hardest of them all.

Sighing deeply, he went to work.

At first, he had to identify all the different strings of magic and what they warded against. A bright reddish one always reacted when Draco exercised magic in close proximity, probably a ward to prevent spell-damage to either door or wall.

A greenish thread always flared up when Draco himself got closer, meaning that it was there to either keep people out in general, or Draco specifically.

Sighing, he studied the other threads in purple and blue, but couldn't make heads or tails of them. He saw them connecting the red and green threads in an intricate weave, but they themselves hadn't shown any sign of activity yet. Were they supporting threads to keep the wards stable, or did they have a more sinister purpose?

Well, he was quite certain that Asmodeus wouldn't kill him, but he wasn't very keen on being cursed unconscious, or any variation thereof. The book had said that nearly any spell could be tied to wards, with the only limit being the caster's imagination, skill, and power. And Draco would bet his right arm that Asmodeus had all three in spades, and even if he was lacking in one of those areas, the vampires would make up for it.

Glaring at the wards, Draco tried to find a way to untie the net without it tangling him up completely.

Luckily, he didn't have to bother with having to keep his manipulations unnoticed, since Asmodeus had more or less dared him to free himself. Making the ward strands visible certainly wouldn't have been a good idea in that case. So, how was he going to remove the threads?

_________________

He woke up to voices outside. Groaning, he vanished the mattress he had conjured for himself and cast a quick tempus charm. Nearly nine in the evening.

That meant he had slept for almost four hours. Uninterrupted, for once.

He didn't know whether to laugh or cry at that.

The wards had proven too much for him. After nearly two hours of continuous struggles, he had actually managed to move the threads of the first one enough to dissolve it. But, to his horror, just as it had been dissolved, it had suddenly snapped back into existence again, in all of its green, red, purple, and blue glory.

At that point, he had almost started banging his head into the walls.

That time, it had only taken him one and a half hours to dissolve the ward – only for it to come back _yet again_.

At that point, he had been so frustrated that he had turned his back to the door, beaten the stuffing out of a few conjured pillows, and cursed them to hell and back. Afterwards, he had conjured a mattress and lied down for a bit. Finally, the continuous exertion of moving the ward strands combined with his interrupted night had caught up with him and lulled him asleep.

Which was the reason why he was waking up only now.

Looking at the wards, he saw someone detach them from their anchor points on the other side of the wall, and then they dissolved into smoke.

The door opened, and Asmodeus came in. He raised an eyebrow at the sight of Draco's rumpled clothing and the eviscerated pillows on the ground, but didn't comment on it.

"You know," Asmodeus smiled, "you're quite good at cracking wards. You were almost through."

Draco frowned. "But they always jumped back to their initial configuration after I dissolved them!"

"Well, we certainly wanted you to think that. But, no, they didn't jump back to their initial configuration. What you did was peeling away the first layer of an onion. Each one of us cast the exact same ward at that door, with the inner layers activating as soon as the layer above fell."

Draco groaned. "So how many layers would I've had to go through?"

Asmodeus' smile turned humorous. "Well, we were three people who cast the wards…"

Once again, Draco barely restrained his need to bang his head into the wall. If he understood Asmodeus correctly, he would have only had to dissolve the final layer, and then he'd have been free!

"Now, come on, you've been staying down here long enough. I think Daray wants to have another chess match."

He was tired, his brain was mushy from all the concentration for moving wards, and he was still groggy from sleep. He was so going to loose that chess match. Not that he'd been doing anything else for the last two weeks.

This really wasn't his day.

**

* * *

A/N****:**Thank you very much for all your encouragement. Since many people have asked me about it, here's the answer as of now:

I haven't written anything else than those two weeks, where nothing extraordinary will happen that you don't already know from Changes in a Time of War. I just want to give Draco's perspective on things, nothing more, nothing less. The only thing I might want to do later on is the scene at the Conclave, where Draco sees Rahkesh in his full basilisk-induced glory.

Sakiku


	9. Day 11

**Day 11**

Asmodeus walked, more like stumbled, into the kitchen, looking like death warmed over. Looking up from the rest of his lunch, Draco inhaled sharply, wondering what was responsible for his pitiful state.

Asmodeus was exceedingly pale, slow and ungraceful in his movements, and his body seemed to weigh twice its normal weight. From the sitting room, the vampire entered, took one look at Asmodeus, and asked. "Did it work?"

Asmodeus nodded exhaustedly, slumping into a chair that the vampire had wandlessly summoned. "I swear, although I've had three showers already, I'm still itching all over."

The bark of laughter from the vampire startled Draco badly, but he tried to keep still to not draw any attention. They were talking about the bloodmagic ritual Asmodeus had been doing today since even before Draco had gotten up.

Ever since reading more about bloodmagic, Draco had found himself inordinately curious about it. Not curious enough to try it himself – it was too dangerous and too painful for his tastes, and some rituals demanded slitting one's arteries. He wasn't suicidal, thank you very much. But if somebody else was insane enough to do it…

Draco noted curiously that he couldn't see any injuries or cuts, just like the book had said. The magic settling into the skin after a correct ritual was supposed to heal all injuries, but Draco hadn't quite believed it. Now, seeing with his own eyes that there wasn't so much as a faint red line on Asmodeus' visible skin, Draco was in awe.

On the other hand, the rest of Asmodeus' state was more than pitiful. If Asmodeus looked that bad after a successful ritual, what would he have looked like if the ritual did not work?

"Hey, slave," the vampire called. Draco stopped himself from drawing a face; apparently he hadn't been forgotten. Just when he had thought he could excuse himself from the vampire's presence after lunch, focus had to fall back on him. "Get him some water."

Moving hastily to obey, he placed a tall glass in front of Asmodeus, trying to leave the kitchen. He'd had more than enough of the dark-haired vampire's company for the day.

Since the sparring room was right next to the ritual chamber, Silas had refused to let Draco practice in there as even the slightest disturbance could prove fatal to Asmodeus. That was what had actually clued Draco in that Asmodeus was performing the ritual right then.

The end result was Silas holing himself in in the potions lab to do some long overdue work, leaving Draco to the tender mercies of the black-haired vampire. By noon, Draco was at the end of his rope from a constant need to watch the vampire's every movement and remembering those lessons in 'slave etiquette', as the vampire had termed them. The word 'slave' left a more than bitter after-taste in his mouth, and he hated how the vampire constantly reminded him of his station. At least Asmodeus treated him – somewhat – normally, and Silas wasn't too bad, either.

Making lunch had been the first break he'd had all day, and he had hoped to escape to his room afterwards. But his scheme didn't work; the vampire snagged his arm abruptly and drew him closer. "I didn't dismiss you, did I? And remember lesson four. You seem to have some trouble with it, don't you?"

Biting his lower lip, Draco clenched his fist to not struggle, because that would make the punishment worse. Ever since they had come back the day before, the black haired vampire hadn't fed on him. Instead, the vampire had focused on wandless curses and intimidation by raw physical strength. Never enough to do any real damage, but certainly enough to hint that, if he wanted to, the vampire could do a lot worse to him. Draco didn't know what exactly was up with him and, of course, there always was the threat of the vampire indeed feeding on him again.

The sharp, bone-deep ache of the vampire squeezing his right forearm almost made him scream, but instead, he focused on Asmodeus, who was thirstily downing his water. With his free hand, the vampire refilled the glass with a careless wave of his wand.

After his second glass of water, Asmodeus' thirst seemed satisfied, and he wearily rose from his chair. "I think I'm going to sleep it off. I hope the two of you won't burn down the house while I'm not awake."

The vampire finally released Draco's arm, making him rotate his abused wrist carefully. Luckily, nothing seemed broken. Casting the bone-mending spell with his left hand would have been an … interesting experience. "Don't worry, Rahkesh. We will only flood it and then let the thestrals trample through the mud."

Asmodeus rolled his eyes and vanished upstairs, leaving Draco alone with the vampire once again.

"Come on, pet," the vampire purred into his ear, "we're going to have some fun."

Draco shuddered, trying not to back away fearfully from the vampire. Ever since the vampire had stopped drinking his blood, his sexual come-ons had gotten much stronger. And Draco had no illusions of what sex with a vampire would entail – if he got out of it with all of his limbs intact, it would be a miracle.

The vampire stalked after him, looming menacingly over Draco's slightly smaller frame. Yes, there were moments when Draco managed to forget the vampire's presence, or at least suppress his apprehension enough to act almost normally around him. But whenever the vampire put any effort in intimidating him, Draco couldn't help but react in nearly mindless fear.

Cold sweat broke out on Draco's skin, and terror rose in his throat. He had backed himself against a wall, not able to escape the vampire's attention. And the vampire knew it, smirking maliciously, and licked his lips. He leaned against the wall with one arm braced next to Draco's head, completely invading his personal space. Bending his head towards Draco's neck, the vampire started nibbling on Draco's skin, which sent icy shudders down his back.

"Hey, Daray," a sudden voice called from the hallway through the closed door, "do you know whether Rahkesh has any fresh Hawthorn bark?"

It seemed that Silas had decided to surface from the potions laboratory where he had secluded himself to conduct some experiments earlier that day. But, apparently, he was preoccupied with something else since he didn't come into the kitchen.

The vampire only lifted his head enough to not shout into Draco's ear. "How should I know? When did you see me last in the lab?"

"Yesterday!"

Draco had frozen against the wall to not draw any attention to himself. The vampire was still uncomfortably close, but fortunately focused elsewhere for the moment. "I was watching Rahkesh brew the potion for his ritual!"

"That's right, he's doing it right now. Is he done yet?"

The vampire rolled his eyes. "If you paid attention to anything besides your experiments, you'd have realized that he's been done for almost half an hour."

"Well, sorry," the indignant answer came back, "there are some of us who have better things to do than scaring poor, frightened mortals! Where is Rahkesh so that I can ask him myself?"

"Asleep, so keep it down!" Contrary to his words, the vampire didn't make any efforts to lower his voice while shouting through closed doors.

"You think Draco knows if there's any Hawthorn?" Silas' response wasn't noticeably quieter, but Draco felt a silencing ward go up. Those hours spent studying and cursing the wards on the sparring room hadn't been in vain; ever since he had begun to feel whenever wards were erected, and more than half of the time, his guess as to the type proved correct.

The vampire suddenly focused back on Draco and cocked an eyebrow at him. Trembling slightly from the close proximity, Draco couldn't do anything but shake his head. The vampire rolled his eyes. "No, you don't know, or no, there isn't any," he hissed.

Draco flinched back as far as he could, and stuttered. "R-Run out."

This time, the vampire smirked and didn't look away from Draco while he shouted back. "The mortal says there is none!"

A few colorful curses followed, together with a reply. "Can you get me some, because I've got to keep stirring and need it as soon as possible! I think I saw some bushes near the woods!"

With an irritated frown, the vampire looked into the direction of the potions laboratory as if he could see through the walls. "You should have thought of that before you started! It's raining outside!"

"You're not made from sugar! I thought there still was some left! And before you think of making Draco do it, he can't go outside Rahkesh's wards!"

"I'm not your handmaid!"

"Please?"

The vampire growled low in his throat. "Fine! But you owe me one!"

"Yes, yes, can you just get it?"

Shaking his head exasperatedly, the vampire focused back on Draco. "Wait here for me. I'm not done with you yet."

Draco nodded jerkily, swallowing in fear. Fate apparently had conspired to leave him hanging in uncertainty, with only a momentary respite from the vampire's advances. To reinforce his command, the vampire bared his teeth at Draco and growled dangerously before finally moving out of range. Without looking back, the Vampire left the cottage. Draco slumped against the wall, heart pounding furiously. Was this hell ever going to end?

"Draco?" Silas' voice came again. "If you're still there, can you please come and help me? I swear, two hands aren't enough sometimes…" His voice trailed off in undistinguishable mumbling, and Draco had to sympathize with him. There had been a reason why Snape had made them brew some potions in teams. That way, there were at least four hands to deal with all the chopping, cutting, stirring, and taking notes. And even then, Draco had sometimes wished for still another pair of hands.

Pushing himself away from the wall, he sighed. A quick wave of his wand later, all used dishes were clean again and flew back into the cupboards. He was tired, but helping Silas would give him a valid excuse for not waiting for the black haired vampire. And, so far, the dark vampire had never picked a direct fight with his lighter cousin. Perhaps he would yet leave this insane cottage with all his limbs attached and not traumatized beyond repair.

___________

It had taken Silas almost an hour to reach a point where his experiment could be left alone.

The dark haired vampire had sulkily brought a few handful of hawthorn bark, which Draco had immediately been told to shred. Draco still had no idea what exactly Silas had been trying to concoct; the only thing he knew for sure was that hawthorn bark had reacted quite violently with the greenish-purple sludge. The resulting explosion had almost destroyed the shield Silas had hastily erected above the cauldron. Luckily, the spell had held. Barely. Daray's only comment was that it had been fortunate they hadn't taken down the silencing ward from earlier because the noise certainly would have woken Asmodeus up. The rest of the hour had been spent cleaning up the mess and trying to stabilize the result so that it could be tested further.

In the end, Draco's robes had become dark from sweat, and Silas had finally put away the rest of the ingredients with an exhausted sigh. Even the dark haired vampire looked a little bit battered. In a mutual decision, they retreated to the sitting room, where a restless panther greeted them by pouncing on Silas. The dark haired vampire once again claimed 'his' couch, and Draco didn't even feel strange anymore about settling down on the ground next to him. It had become habit.

For some time everything was silent, and Silas' presence somehow reassured Draco enough to let himself slip into a light doze. It was later that a stack of flying papers came to rest in front of Silas who had summoned them. The dark haired vampire gave them a curious look, and Silas showed him the front page. From what Draco could read, it was something about courses and Akren. And it made the dark haired vampire sigh. "I'd better finish my list, too. Do you have a spare pen for me?"

Wordlessly, Silas handed over one of those muggle instruments. It had been quite a shock for Draco to see that Mariah's household was full of such small muggle things that, Draco had to admit, were just as functional as their wizarding equivalents.

Once again, everything became quiet except for the rustling of pens on paper, and Draco returned to his dozing. He woke up again when Asmodeus came into the sitting room and flopped down on the second chair. In Draco's opinion, he looked quite a bit better than earlier the day. Far less pale and exhausted, but apparently still not good enough for Silas.

"You don't look that well," the blond vampire commented after giving Asmodeus a critical stare. "There won't be any angry ancients after you, will there?"

At first, Asmodeus looked as confused as Draco felt, then he laughed. "No, everything went alright, so no reason for Namach to flip out. And I don't look that bad; we mortals can't heal everything by knocking back a few gallons of blood. You should have seen me after that piece for the poisons. _Then_ I looked bad."

Draco stared at Asmodeus disbelievingly. To Draco, Asmodeus had looked half-dead three hours ago. What would constitute as _worse_ in Asmodeus' opinion? He hadn't thought anyone could look that bad without any visible wounds.

"You still haven't given us your list for Akren," the dark haired vampire behind Draco said, nodding towards the papers on the coffee table.

Asmodeus took a look at them and then slammed his palm to his forehead. "I knew I forgot something." He summoned his own sheafs of paper, penning down a quick succession of words Draco couldn't make out from his position on the floor.

"So Rahkesh, classes?" Silas asked, folding his own list into an envelope.

"Marluck's extreme martial arts class…which I think Professor Ahmad co-teaches, intro to mind magic, second level healing class, and of course the double advanced bloodmagic/intro to necromancy." Asmodeus said, handing his list over. "Who's teaching that last? Namach, Xanthius, or Vaeryes?"

Wow. That kind of coursework was solely geared towards turning out a dark fighter. He shuddered at the thought of someone of Asmodeus' caliber being able to summon legions of the undead to help him. In his readings for bloodmagic, Draco had come across a few paragraphs about necromancy, and how it followed the same distinction as bloodmagic. He was quite certain that the Dark Lord was a white necromancer, judging by some of the comments he'd overheard. And Asmodeus was trying to become a necromancer, too. While Draco was almost sure that Asmodeus was going in the black direction, he couldn't help the small shudders of disgust running down his back.

Also, that teacher's name, Namach, he'd heard it somewhere before. Asmodeus had mentioned him a few times, but Draco thought he had read about him before. Now that he knew that Namach taught bloodmagic and necromancy, he knew where to look. Draco made a mental note to do some research later on.

"Namach I think. With help from Xanthius since it's a double class. It will be nice to get away from Vaeryes won't it?" the back-haired vampire said.

"Yes! Does he get along with anybody?"

"No." Silas said, "Daray?"

"Same classes actually. Though I have this feeling a lot of it will wind up being on my own. No one knows how I'll react to necromancy. You?"

Draco briefly wondered why; if necromancy could be standardized enough to teach in classes, there shouldn't be a reason for the vampire to react differently.

"Second level healing, intro to mind magic, extreme martial arts, potions, and that class they call Disguise and Deception, but which is actually the intro espionage class coupled with lessons for beginner con-artists."

Well, even if they hadn't said so themselves several times, Draco would by now be absolutely certain that the three of them went to Akren. From what he had read in Asmodeus' library, no other school offered espionage classes. Most of the Asian schools offered martial arts classes, and there were even one or two others that offered bloodmagic and necromancy classes. Healing, mind magic and potions were common enough to be taught almost everywhere, but Akren was the only one with espionage classes. At least, espionage classes with a hands-on part.

On the one hand, Akren sounded like a dream come true – unlimited studying, unhindered by any moral restraints, with the best minds of the planet there to help grow beyond all boundaries. Not only theoretical teaching, but also practice and application, with a focus on the latter two.

On the other hand, Akren sounded like a nightmare. Vampires living next to werewolves living next to centaurs and humans, not to mention all those fae races. No protections beyond what one could manage for oneself – and that with the most vicious creatures on Earth living right next door. Creatures that delighted in torture and were even given free reign to do so.

How anyone could study in such an environment was beyond him.

"Uh oh, anyone have a friend who sends letters by albino eagles?" The black-haired vampire suddenly asked, looking out the window.

Draco followed his gaze, and indeed, there were three huge, white eagles making their way straight towards the cottage. From their size, he had to wonder how they'd fit inside the window – their wing span was almost three times as large.

"No." Asmodeus said.

"Probably not good news then. Oh, it must be from Akren, there're three of them." Daray said.

To Draco's surprise, the window opened by itself and the birds somehow managed to fit through. They each dropped a letter, circled the room once, and left. Draco had to suppress a small whistle at the well-trained birds as they dropped the letters so that Asmodeus and the two vampires each received their own, address face up. He hadn't seen an owl yet that could do a similar stunt, and his father would have given anything to have such an impressive bird.

"Isn't there a recent graduate who specializes in training magical birds?" The blond vampire asked, not getting an answer as all three of them opened their letter.

From their darkening expressions, Draco surmised that the message wasn't anything good. From his position on the ground, he couldn't read what was written in the letters, but Daray's slight growl at his back told him enough.

Finally, Asmodeus sighed and rubbed at his temples.

"Damn, there go our plans for the evening." The dark-haired vampire groaned. "I was looking forward to sampling some London…cuisine."

Draco had to fight not to draw a grimace. He knew quite well what the vampire meant by 'cuisine', and he pitied anyone that fell victim to the dark-haired menace. Draco mostly wondered why the vampire wasn't drinking from him anymore, but he didn't look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Yes, I was looking forward to one more night out before returning to Akren." Asmodeus said, penning off a quick letter.

"With that pretty little quarter veela what's-her-name." Daray chuckled.

"Her name is Keesha." Asmodeus growled.

Draco really, really didn't want to hear anything else of Asmodeus' love-life; it was enough for him to see Asmodeus all chipper the morning after one of his … nights out.

"Wait, wait, backup, Rahkesh is willingly sleeping with a magical creature?" The blond vampire asked. "Has the moon turned blue? Hell frozen over?"

Well, veela at least were nice to look at. Draco had to compliment Asmodeus for his taste.

"Oh stop that." Asmodeus grumbled, "I have no problem with magical creatures, Keesha is a lot of fun. It's just anyone from Akren. And vampires."

Draco almost raised an eyebrow. Asmodeus didn't want to sleep with vampires? That spoke of a lot more common sense than he thought Asmodeus had. So far, Asmodeus hadn't minded sharing his cottage with two of them, teasing them, and exchange gestures that could only be called physical violence. And judging by his familiar behavior with Draco's Master – Draco tried to tell himself that, had he apprenticed under Severus, he would have had to call the man Master, too – Asmodeus was around even high-ranking ones quite a lot. Who, according to his books, were even more intimidating than the young ones.

"I'm just drowning in the discrimination there," Silas snickered. "Everyone but us?"

"_Goblins_ would be better. They don't drink your blood and try to force you to change species."

They _what_? Drinking blood, Draco knew from first-hand experience. But force their sexual partners to change species? Did Mariah want to make him a _vampire_?

"It's for your own good." Daray replied cheerfully, "and we don't all do that."

"No, but you do always drink your partners blood."

"Not always." Silas said, "just most of the time."

Draco calmed down a little bit, seeing that he was in no immediate danger. When his brain kicked in again, he remembered that he had been with Mariah for quite some time before she left him here, and she had never made any motions of turning him into a vampire.

So was he safe from her?

And would the blond and dark vampires go against her wishes?

"Okay. I wouldn't mind a vampire, if I removed their fangs first." Asmodeus looked quite evil with that statement. From the vampires' winces, Draco surmised that it hurt quite a lot. He had once made the acquaintance of a knee to his groin (accident, not even the Dark Lord's minions had sunk so low), and even hearing about something like that made him wince in a similar manner. Asmodeus smirked slightly, and Draco knew he was insane enough to go through with such a statement, should the need arise. "I don't suppose either of you knows anything about what actions the AAA might take?"

The change of topic was quite sudden, but Draco was very happy about that. He preferred not to think about vampires and their mating habits, and he was curious as to what was the news for the three of them to react so negatively. And what was the AAA?

"Who is the current Minister of Magic here?" The dark-haired vampire asked, putting his own letter on the table.

Taking this opportunity, Draco cautiously looked up from his place on the floor beside the table to read. Knowing he didn't have a lot of time, he sped through the parchment, catching only the most important facts and words: vigilant attack on London pack, werewolf alumnus, Akren Alumni Association, and British ministry not turning the werewolf over.

Draco's eyes slowly widened as he thought about all the political ramifications. First off, the existence of the Akren Alumni Association, probably the AAA mentioned earlier. The fact that the best people in their chosen subjects were all organized. He would be surprised if the AAA didn't have a lot of political sway in the world. After all, their members were considered of the best of the best.

Secondly, the fact that Akren was absolutely unbiased concerning the species of its pupils. That meant that there just had to be some other werewolf alumni in the AAA besides the ones captured.

And thirdly, the unprovoked attack on an Akren werewolf and pending execution by the British ministry. If that didn't mobilize all of the AAA against Britain…

His eyes very wide, he glanced up at the three of them.

"Gary Baines, he's the third in two years. The other two were assassinated. This place is going to hell in a hand basket." Asmodeus muttered.

Would the AAA assassinate the minister in response?

"And I don't suppose killing him would get anyone better. No one's offering a contract on him, not much point. I think the tactic now is to let him lead them into a ruin." Daray said.

"And just what are you looking at?" The black-haired vampire's angry voice in his ear made Draco quickly jerk back from examining the letter. "Didn't Mariah teach you anything?" Daray muttered. "If a slave needs to know something he's told it."

The cold hand on his wrist made Draco freeze in terror, belatedly realizing that he had reflexively drawn his wand. He could feel the vampire's ire and stared fixedly at the floor. The hand squeezed once sharply, then let him go to his surprise. Slowly, in order not to draw any attention to himself, he put his wand back into his pocket and almost sighed in relief as the vampire leaned forward to the couch table and quickly penned a reply to the letters.

"They'll be discussing the demons at this meeting as well." Daray said, casting quite a long spell to send off the reply. "Akren does have a policy for dealing with demon invasions, professor Xanthius insisted on building one. We're not supposed to learn about it until our final year, so Sierra wouldn't tell me what it was, just that it existed."

What demons? This was the first time he had heard that someone else knew of their existence. Draco listened up in alarm. Were they talking about those demons the Dark Lord had mentioned? Those that would serve him as his elite fighters?

"How has that investigation gone?" Asmodeus asked.

"Uncle Kalik has built a system to read disturbances in the flows of magic in the area. They're using a deathmagic scanner to trace them." Daray commented. "Surprising, isn't it? That this Voldemort fellow hasn't claimed them? We've detected evidence of a portal but it's too old to trace the exact location."

The Dark Lord hadn't claimed those demons? But he had seen in the dungeons… Were they spies?

"They're his." Draco said suddenly, as surprised about his words as the three around him. The words had slipped out of his mouth without his conscious decision, and now it was too late to take them back.

"What?" the blond vampire asked, suddenly focused on him.

Draco gathered all of his courage and looked up at a spot somewhere between the vampire's chin and his shoulder. "They're his. The demons are his." He replied.

"How would you know?" Asmodeus asked, leaning forward in his chair, attentive tension lining his frame.

He swallowed around the heavy lump in his throat. He had never been the focus of the three of them like that before. Almost as if they considered him an… equal?

"Before…before Mariah caught me, I was a Death Eater." Draco began slowly, trying to tell the whole thing without remembering too many details. "When I failed at…at a mission…"

He just couldn't bring himself to say that he had been supposed to kill Dumbledore. It was too fresh, too raw what he had managed to accomplish. And the failure he had ultimately become.

Nervously, he wetted his lips and glossed over the next month. "He locked me in the dungeons. There was a huge cavern down there. We passed it every time I was brought out. I saw this big gold…pool in there. With demons carved on the sides."

"Does Mariah know you worked for Voldemort?" The blond vampire asked.

Draco stiffened. They hadn't known about him being a Death Eater? "Yes. He was going to kill me. She saved me."

Draco managed a bitter smile, knowing that whatever standing he might have gained in their eyes during the past two weeks probably was forfeit now. After all, he was only a _Death Eater_.

Yes, Mariah had saved him, but at what cost? Sometimes he wished Greyback had been able to kill him. At least then, he would be out of his misery, away from all those bad-or-worse choices.

"You ought to be more grateful." The dark-haired vampire snapped at Draco, who flinched.

He ducked, expecting a physical reprimand. But, once again, Asmodeus saved him. "Oh enough Daray. He'll be back with Mariah tomorrow and you won't have to see him again."

He would go back to Mariah? Tomorrow? That was really sudden and unexpected. Was it because they didn't want anything to do with him anymore?

As if they had a will of their own, his fingernails dug themselves into his palms. What was going back into her service be like after the – dare he name it – freedom he'd had here?

"Depends on if she accepts Farov's offer." Daray said cheerfully. "Farov keeps many slaves on hand for his guests."

Farov? Wasn't he the vampire they had been talking about the first time they had come here? The one who… Draco suppressed a shiver of terror. Any service to Mariah was better than _that_.

"You're an eighteen year old vampire. Grandson of Cyala Ateres or not, unless you're carrying a message from her Farov wouldn't give you the time of day, except maybe to bite you." Asmodeus pointed out.

"All right, very true. But Farov does provide the entertainment for most meetings at Lord Hadrian's manor. Since London has somehow managed to become such a vital spot right now we'll be meeting there a lot for the next few years. I'm sure even if Mariah does sell him we'll be seeing him again, probably on stage." Daray smirked.

Draco paled even more, trying not to think about what he could be forced to do. His time at the Dark Lord's mercy had given him more than enough fodder for his imagination.

Asmodeus snorted. "And here I thought live sex acts as a spectator sport went out of style a few thousand years ago. You vampires always manage to be the stone-age throwbacks of the world. And if it was a big gathering, and after the meetings were over there was some sort of party, aren't young vampires just as likely to get passed around as the actual sex slaves?"

To Draco's astonishment, that shut the dark-haired vampire up, and the other vampire even laughed at him. To be honest, Draco had never really thought about how vampires as young as Daray and Silas were treated in their society. Sure, in the Dark Lord's service, the vampires had fought each other at every opportunity, but that hadn't been too different from the other Death Eaters. But for the regular vampires to treat their own like that?

No wonder they were known for their ruthlessness. Anyone who got to a decent strength must have been 'passed around' enough to result in an absolutely vicious personality. And anyone not strong enough would have been eliminated or turned into a vegetable.

He had a brief image flash before his eyes, of Daray scowling from behind bars at a crowd of leering Neanderthal vampires. The hilarity of it was quite unexpected; he had never enjoyed such sadistic humor before. Nonetheless, Draco was trying not to laugh – he might wind up mauled if he did, sitting as he was by Daray's knee.

With a smirk, Asmodeus cleared his throat to stop the two vampires from horsing around. "Well, anyways, we need to be there in four hours. I have a few other things to do in the mean-time, so I suggest we meet at the portkey drop-point at 19:30."

All at once, they were serious once again, nodding sharply. Without another word, Asmodeus rose from his chair and walked out of the room. Both vampires exchanged a knowing look, which Draco couldn't decipher.

Then Silas sighed. "Come on, Daray, I think we'd better spar the remaining time. Can't have you doing anything – unexpected in the middle of the meeting."

The black-haired vampire pouted. "But I…"

"No. You'll have enough time to see Draco one last time before Mariah gets here tomorrow. Now come with me."

Draco didn't dare remind them of his presence by doing anything that could get their attention, like moving, coughing, sneezing, or breathing. To his big relief, the blond vampire managed to convince the other, and they left with one of the threats Draco had slowly grown accustomed to.

"Now, mortal, don't you dare do anything while we are away, or you won't like the consequences. Understood?"

Draco nodded anxiously. "Y-yes."

Together, the two vampires sauntered out of the door. Draco sighed in relief, waited for a bit to make sure they were out of the hallway, and then finally was able to retreat to his room – something he had wanted to do hours before. Dinner? Well, he'd get around to it when everyone was gone. First off, he really didn't want to chance another vampiric encounter today. Secondly, he had a little bit of research to do, concerning vampiric society and just where he had seen the name Namach before.

He was quite certain that the results would turn out to be… interesting.

**

* * *

A/N:** Almost there. Since so many people asked me – there's going to be an epilogue where Draco meets Rahkesh at the Conclave. But you're going to have to wait for it quite a bit because I've got tons of other stuff to do at the moment (2Weeks has already been finished for quite some time, only needing some final polishing). And, yes, I know that half of this chapter is dialogue copied from CiaToW. Sorry, but it covers very important bits, so I could hardly leave it out. It was one of the main reasons why I wasn't sure whether Miranda Flairgold would give her ok to this story.

Sakiku


	10. Day 12

**Day 12**

Cautiously, Draco slipped downstairs. His nightmares had woken him early again, and he didn't want to stay in his room on his last day before going back to Mariah. He'd had enough of it yesterday evening, since they had locked him in before going to this AAA meeting.

At least he'd had enough time to find the name Tristan Namach. He had almost fallen over in shock when he had found a portrait of the vampire in one of the Most Important People Today encyclopedias. He had actually _seen_ the vampire before, the first time he had been to this house. Now, in hind-sight, it was no wonder the whole cottage had thrummed with dark power. That had been the only _three-thousand _year old vampire, practically the _ruler_ of all vampires, and more or less the sole _inventor_ of _bloodmagic_!

What reason would such a prominent vampire have to visit Asmodeus in this small cottage?

Wait. Hadn't Asmodeus or the vampire mentioned that Tristan Namach taught their bloodmagic class at Akren? And, from the impression he had gained yesterday, the Ancient had taken a liking to Asmodeus. At least, Draco decided, that was the most plausible reason for the Ancient being mad if Asmodeus had botched his ritual. Because if Namach wasn't interested in Asmodeus, Draco just couldn't imagine a three thousand year old vampire being anything else than gleefully amused about a human blowing themselves up with bloodmagic. Hell, Draco bet he'd even be there to watch the spectacle. Several sources had mentioned that Tristan Namach was incredibly blood-thirsty and incredibly insane. Incredibly talented, too, but simply too dangerous.

Some of Draco's nightmares this night hadn't featured his usual torture or run-from-the-big-bad-wolf scenarios, but rather vivid descriptions of the slaughters the uncrowned King of Vampires had committed over the course of centuries. A change of pace, as far as Draco's dreams were concerned, but not necessarily a welcome one.

The next shock had been almost as bad – the next pages of the vampire section in Most Influential Figures of our Time had been dedicated to Cyala Ateres, second oldest vampire in existence. And, of course, there had been a picture of her, and he had recognized her, _too,_ as the woman that had been there his first time.

At least her presence had been somewhat explicable. Draco wasn't a hundred percent sure, but he thought he'd heard Asmodeus refer to the dark-haired vampire as an Ateres. It would make sense that the family head took an interest in where and with whom the children spent their time.

And Mariah's tension then had been explained, too. Draco had only had to rifle through a few more pages of the encyclopedia, and voila, three whole pages on her. By then, he had already been numb from shock, so he hadn't flinched too much at her age. Almost two millennia. But, seeing as she was considerably younger than Tristan Namach and Cyala Ateres, and taking into account what he had gathered about vampiric society, she'd had to be careful not to offend the other two because they could reduce her to ash before she could blink.

At least her obsession over anything even remotely related to dragons had been something Draco had already known about her.

After that, Draco had furiously studied the rest of the vampire section of the book to at least make sure he knew the most important figures – he didn't want to get any such unpleasant surprises again. His survival depended on Mariah wanting to keep him around. And embarrassing her in front of higher-ranked vampires would be one of the quickest ways to a severely more unpleasant fate.

Another two books on vampire society and vampiric abilities had only reinforced that belief. Those power games almost reminded him of the constant politics between pureblood families. Since servants also represented the family to the outside, they had to know how to act appropriately.

Was that what Mariah was trying to do with him? Mould him into a servant that she wouldn't have to be ashamed of when someone else saw him?

Yesterday evening, he had been almost completely convinced that this was the case. Today, in the day-light, he wasn't so sure anymore. On the other hand, he couldn't find any better explanation for Mariah's actions and words, and those two weeks here at Asmodeus' cottage would fit right in. So he would try to be a bit more open-minded when he went back to Mariah's. And try not to cower in front of every vampire he encountered.

The light beneath the door to the living room didn't really surprise him, but what did surprise him was that all three of them were present, with the two vampires leering at him. Briefly he froze in the doorway, then gathered all of his courage and stepped in. He hoped that he was doing the right thing and that Asmodeus' presence would keep the two vampires at least somewhat in check.

As a small act of defiance, he didn't sit down at his customary place on the floor next to the couch but remained standing.

The dark-haired vampire fixed him with a lazy glance. "We are allowed to erase his memory before Mariah takes him back right?"

Draco paled and gritted his teeth. He didn't want anyone to mess with his memory; that neon green potion was bad enough. Memory operations always were a dangerous subject, as a simple mistake could cause severe mental damage.

He had told himself to react to everything with an open mind, but there were some lines he wasn't willing to cross. Not a very good start to his day of New Resolutions.

Asmodeus rolled his eyes. "Does it really matter if she knows what your most recent set of rituals was?"

"Yes."

"Why? Embarrassed that my suggestion of planned electrocution worked?" Asmodeus smirked.

Draco barely refrained from goggling; he hadn't even realized the vampire had already done that ritual. And that he had actually done what Asmodeus had suggested…

The vampire growled. "Shut up, Thunder. I'm more concerned about someone else reading his mind if she sells him."

Draco flinched slightly and instinctively backed away when Daray got up and drew his wand. One hand of Draco's slipped into his pocket where his own wand was located. However, he still hesitated to draw it because, over the course of sever painful sparring sessions, he had learned that he was no match for the vampire. Any sign of rebelliousness probably would get him sold, anyway.

And being sold was exactly what he wanted to avoid, having come to the conclusion that Mariah was one of the nicest vampires around after yesterday's readings. And also one of the highest-ranking, since she had somehow managed to get several of the oldest ones to support her in her position of neutrality.

But he didn't want anyone messing with his mind, either…

"Now?" Asmodeus sounded non-plussed, but didn't make a move to stop the vampire.

Despite his intention to keep his calm in the vampire's presence, Draco felt fear and terror rise in his throat. What a great time for Asmodeus to decide that Draco didn't need help.

The dark-haired vampire nodded. "Yes. That way I have time to repeat it several times before she gets here this evening."

"You realize that since he belongs to Mariah your magics might just bounce off him?" Asmodeus asked

Draco had drawn back against the wall and was finding no more way to retreat. He never took his eyes off the vampire's wand.

Daray paused. "Good point. Even if she does it unconsciously her magic is still all over him."

"You might wind up erasing everything, I doubt she'd approve if he came back mindless." Asmodeus warned.

Panicked, Draco looked around for a way out. If even Asmodeus thought the whole thing was dangerous, the chance of the spell misfiring had to be really high. And Draco didn't want to end up mindless, which would end up with him being sold, which would mean…

"There are ways around that." That husky growl was decidedly too near for comfort.

The vampire backed Draco against the wall and made a grab for him, like during the first week when he had drunk Draco's blood. Was he going to _feed_ on him while erasing his memory at the same time? No, he remembered that drinking blood gave vampires access to memories, and he'd use that to – but he didn't want anyone messing around with his memories, especially not while feeding from him, and –

Completely panicked, Draco reeled back and punched the vampire in the face.

The punch threw the vampire out of his immediate personal space, and Draco's thoughts slowed enough to let him catch up with just what he had done. He slumped backwards, absolutely terrified as to what the vampire was going to do now. The vampire had been bad enough with his rules that were mere codes of conduct – what was he going to do with physical assault? Was he going to tell Mariah that he was untrainable? That he had to be punished?

The vampire shook his head for a moment, blinked at Draco, and started laughing. It was a deep bellowing laughter that completely startled Draco because it wasn't evil or malicious, but humorous.

It startled Draco so badly that he barely caught himself before he fell over.

"The little mortal has some spine after all!" The vampire laughed, clapping Draco on the shoulder and dragged him towards one of the unoccupied arm chairs. "Good punch!"

Say what?

The vampire abandoned him in favor of the couch and flopped down languidly. Draco looked back and forth between the three of them, utterly confused. Asmodeus smiled and waved at the couch table where there still was some breakfast left. Pancakes, bacon, eggs. And no blood in sight.

"I was hoping you'd do that. It really is the only way to get him to stop." Asmodeus explained.

Asmodeus had _wanted_ him to punch the vampire?

"Y-you're not angry?" Draco asked cautiously, not quite knowing what to make of the sorcerer's statement.

"No, of course not. The whole point of bringing you here was getting you to stand up for yourself a little." Asmodeus explained gently.

He what? Huh?

And just why had he never wondered why Mariah had sent him here? It certainly hadn't been to do work for them, or even to act as blood donor. And he doubted that it was normal for vampires to send their new slaves practically on vacation when they weren't even fully trained. So could that really be the truth?

If so, the remaining question would be: why go through so much trouble for a single human? What was she planning to do with him?

"He was desperately in need of a good punch or two." Silas agreed.

The other vampire wasn't angry, either? And, looking back at the dark-haired one, Draco saw that he was still laughing.

All of a sudden, the two of them didn't look that menacing anymore, and he could maybe even understand why Asmodeus had become friends with them. And the punch - was that what Asmodeus had meant during his first week, when Draco had asked him how he could live in one house with two vampires and not fear for his life? That, despite being weaker than them, Asmodeus had managed to gain their respect by standing up for himself?

Well, if he really thought about it, Draco wouldn't have much respect for someone who continuously cowered away from him, either. Just remembering the house-elves from his early childhood almost turned his stomach. To think that Draco himself hadn't behaved much differently from those exceedingly servile creatures…

On the other hand, he supposed, most of his guesses as to Mariah's intentions had been confirmed now. And it looked far less bleak than he would have imagined in his wildest dreams even a week ago.

Smiling slightly to himself, Draco sat down and helped himself to the plate of eggs, not asking for permission. If he wanted to be treated like a thinking, human being, he'd have to act like one first. Not cower away in mindless fear and ask permission for even the slightest things.

"Given the potions he's been taking it won't matter if you don't erase his memory, he can't say anything to anyone anyway." Asmodeus reminded Daray, a smile twitching around the corners of his mouth.

Draco raised an eyebrow. Then…

The vampire looked at Asmodeus exasperatedly. "Why didn't you just remind me of that in the first place?"

"I was hoping you would push him far enough that he'd fight back." Asmodeus said.

Huh. Everything during those two weeks had been orchestrated to help Draco interrupt that continuous cycle of fear and nightmares and exhaustion he had been caught in.

Of course, he still thought Asmodeus was slightly off his rocker. Who in his right mind would lock someone with a deathly phobia of blood and vampires in a house together with an archetypical vampire? He didn't doubt for a moment that that had all been Asmodeus' doing.

On the other hand – it had worked, hadn't it?

Draco ate silently, not looking up at any of them, though he sneaked occasionally glances at the vampire when they weren't looking. So this was what the vampire was like when not in full 'scare-the-poor-mortal' mode. He was almost… well, acting human. Except for his sadistic tendencies, he was actually quite normal, talking with his friends and relaxing. And, to think of it, Draco had seen such a drive to prey on those weaker than them in other Death Eater children, too.

So why exactly had Draco been so scared of him?

Yes, the vampire was strong enough to kill him in one move. So was Asmodeus, and Draco had viewed Asmodeus more as a safe-haven than a danger. The vampire was slightly insane. So was Asmodeus, especially when lightening was crackling between his fingers. The vampire fed on him. Well, at least that was a better reason to bleed him than merely cutting and slicing him for the sadistic pleasures of the Dark Lord.

And Draco hadn't just thought that. He liked his blood where it was, thank you very much, no matter how just the cause was.

"Mariah will be by a little after noon." Asmodeus told Draco, who startled and blinked rapidly, having been off in his own world.

The thought of what was going to happen to him inspired some of the old terror in him, but Draco firmly told himself to keep his calm. Respect, and all that. "Ah. Do…do you really think she'd sell me?"

"I don't know. I know she's looking for research assistants with working brains who are interested in dragons, and that she has a history of freeing slaves who work well. If you can make her think you're worth training she won't sell you." Asmodeus said slowly.

It took everything Draco had not to inhale sharply. Mariah had a history of freeing slaves? She wasn't looking for someone to be a blood donor and clean her house, but for a research assistant? To research dragons?

Yes, his thoughts had already gone in that direction, but to hear it said out loud? Too good to be true.

"You'd better hope she doesn't sell you. Farov's already said he's interested, and he is one sick bastard." Silas said.

Draco had to remind himself to not react to that statement. Just because his perception of them had changed, that didn't mean the vampires had changed. They were still sadistic enough to enjoy tormenting him. And by now, they pretty much knew where his weak spots were.

"I've heard his after-dinner shows are very nice." Daray retorted. "There's a reason why Hadrian usually lets him provide most of the entertainers at any meetings."

Hell, vampires weren't just like the old pure-blood families with their politics. They had tastes like the Death Eaters, too.

"Lord Hadrian keeps him under control, sometimes. But Farov doesn't free his slaves, unless Lord Hadrian makes him."

"I doubt you'd actually find those shows amusing Daray." Asmodeus said. "I've heard from a few alumni what goes on there. I think even you would protest some of it. Farov has to be careful of who's in the audience. Last time he forgot to, someone tried to kill him under the argument of his degrading the human species."

Urgh, there were vampires _that_ bad? Slowly, his composure began to crumble, and he had to firmly tell himself that Mariah wasn't like that, and that he hopefully wouldn't give her any reason to sell him. And then, maybe in a few years, he could be free again.

All in all, a much better fate than what would have awaited him as a Death Eater.

Slowly, he finished his breakfast and started to clean up the table. The two vampires briefly paused in their conversation to look at him, but neither one said anything. He hadn't even realized when Asmodeus had left.

There still were a few hours left until noon. So what was he going to do until then?

___________________

"Draco."

Startled, Draco turned away from the thestral he had been petting absent-mindedly. By trial and error, he had felt his way until he was at half-point of the path between the cottage and the greenhouse, feeling a sudden need to be outside. The thestral had sidled up to him not long after and had actually let him pet it.

The female voice had already prepared him somewhat, but he still had to fight to keep his new resolutions and revelations fresh in his mind. He took in her waxen-looking skin and the thousands of dreadlocks. Showtime.

"Yes, ma'am?"

He forced himself to look at her and not flinch away from her stern gaze. She raised an eyebrow, and he bit the inside of his cheek in an attempt to keep calm.

Finally, she shook her head disbelievingly, muttering to herself. "Well, what do you know. Rahkesh's ploy actually worked." She focused back on Draco. "You have everything?"

Draco nodded, showing her the shrunken back-pack with which he had arrived at the cottage. "I am ready, ma'am."

"Good." She touched his shoulder, and with a slight feeling of disorientation, Draco found himself back in the entrance hall of her mansion.

The black and white marble was almost like coming home.

"Follow me."

Draco hadn't even noticed her hand slip away, but he quickly hurried after her. She went to her quarters, and Asmodeus' earlier words once again stood out in his mind: dragon researcher. Under that light, the countless dragon paraphernalia were quite explicable. The dragon teeth in a bowl on the table. The dragon pictures on the walls – all of them very realistically drawn. The preserved dragon claw between the dragon books on the bookshelf. The dragon skull hanging from the ceiling. The dragon ornaments on virtually every wooden surface. The dragon torch-holders. The enameled dragon scales.

"Come here."

She stood in the center of the room, beckoning to him with her finger. With only brief hesitation, he stood in front of her. When she held his shoulder with one hand and bent his head to the side with the other, he clenched his fists to remind himself that she was his Master, but didn't put up any resistance otherwise.

The bite came quickly, without any of the psychological games Daray had always worked into it. And, as an additional plus-point, there was no hungry vampire bat around.

For the first time, he didn't fight the relaxing feeling spreading through him.

It was over as quickly as it had begun, and after a brief lick to close the wounds, she stepped away from him again. The whole operation had felt impersonal, natural, completely different from the ordeal it had been before.

Had his new attitude really changed so much for him?

She studied him with a thoughtful look, and he kept his eyes between her shoulders and her chin. He knew she was judging him, based on the information she had gotten from his blood. He was quite relieved that he had actually found the courage to read up on vampires, their abilities, and their society yesterday evening.

He found that knowing what they were capable of, and, more importantly, what they were _not_ capable of, made it quite a bit easier to interact with them.

"Very well," she finally nodded. "You can go back to your quarters and unpack. I expect you here within an hour. I need someone to help me catalogue a few new artifacts."

Draco released a breath he hadn't known he had held. For now, she wasn't going to sell him. She hadn't even taken his wand away. "Yes, ma'am."

With a short bow, he excused himself and left the room. Perhaps this was going to work after all.

He never saw the slight smile curling around the edges of her mouth.

~The End (for now)~

**

* * *

A/N**: Well, this is the end of the two weeks. In case you're bit confused about Day 12 already being the end of two weeks – count the prologue and Day 0, and you indeed have 14 days.

Thank you very much to all of you who reviewed and encouraged me. And don't forget – if Miranda Flairgold hadn't written all of the surrounding universe, this (comparatively) small story wouldn't exist.

The 'for now' qualifier is a hint that I might be thinking of something more (i. e. the Conclave), but that first has to get a decent plot, then to be written, then to be approved by Miranda Flairgold, and only then I can think of posting it. And that will probably take quite some time – the only reason why I updated so quickly was because everything was already written and I only did some last-minute polishing.

Well, anyway, see you later, alligator

Sakiku


End file.
